Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil
by Harry's Mum Lily
Summary: New Update: Chapter 18, A Fifth Year Adventure full of Darkness and Danger as Harry enters a new era in his Wizarding Life. Very Dark and Angsty.
1. The Dark Lord's Vengeance

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter One: The Dark Lord's Vengeance

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own none of J.K.s wonderful characters. I only own this plot which came to my in the middle of the night. This is set in Harry's fifth year in case you're wondering. I know that there are a lot of 5th year stories out there but please tell me what you think. Thanks.

Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust.

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Chapter 37_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

# What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does.

_Rubeus Hagrid_

_Chapter 37_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

__

_ _

_ _

_ _

_Harry Potter…it all came down to him. That brat had been the bane of his existence since the day he was born._ The Dark Lord Voldemort paced in the tower room he'd claimed for his own private quarters, his deep black, velvet robes swirling around him as he turned, his thoughts dark and brooding. The plan had already been set in motion and this time there would be no mistakes. He'd seen to every detail himself. For fourteen years he'd plotted his revenge upon the one who wizards had called his downfall. They were ignorant of the truth through. Harry Potter had _not_ been his downfall and had in fact restored him to life just a few short months ago. Harry Potter was not special in any way at all. He'd escaped his just fate only because he was extremely lucky and because of his mother's protective charm. 

" But his luck has run out and his mother's charm has been rendered powerless…this time there will be nothing to prevent me…this time Potter will be mine."

Voldemort laughed and his red eyes glowed with an evil fire. He'd been setting events in motion that would inevitably lead to Harry Potter's complete fall from grace. He had been very quietly whittling away at the wizarding community's belief in Harry as the one who would bring about Voldemort's final defeat. It had been so easy after the doubts spread about by the Minister of Magic himself after the Triwizard Tournament. The Minister was now working tirelessly to discredit Dumbledore and Potter and it was all on the Dark Lord's orders. Voldemort smiled at the irony of that. Fudge, who had once been a trusted friend of both Potter and Dumbledore, was now a follower of their mortal enemy.Fudge had been so easy to turn; he was a wizard with very little power but much influence.

"Very useful…more useful then most of my…other servants."

Neither Dumbledore or Harry were aware of this nor were they aware that he'd also begun to weaken the protections that had been set around Harry. Most of them had begun to show their age and for weeks now Voldemort had been gently pushing through these age-old protections, weakening them to the point that the very next time Harry was attacked they would collapse around him. He would then be vulnerable to magical attack as he had not been before. Only one protection remained in place and it was the one Voldemort was finding difficult to subvert even with all the power he possessed now. Voldmort stopped his pacing in front of a large mirror. It shimmered and as he looked into it an image of Harry and his friends boarding the Hogwarts Express appeared in it. They were completely unaware of his scrutiny. He stared at Harry and noticed that he seemed to be preoccupied. Harry's bright green eyes were looking inward and he seemed to be deep in thought.

"So he has heard already," Voldemort thought as he inspected his handiwork.

The protections around Harry had once glowed with a bright and strong silver light but now that light was dim and weak and the protections were covered in hairline cracks that were only visible from the outside. The one exception to this was a glowing dome of scarlet and gold light that contained the high-level protection spells that had been put in place around Harry shortly after his birth. Try as he might Voldemort could find no way around this net of spells and they could not be made to bend to his will. Voldemort threw his wand across the room in frustration and continued to stare at Harry's image in the mirror. He watched as Harry pulled his wand out and showed one of his friends a complex spell he'd learned over the summer holidays. Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he watched, eyeing the wand with a mixture of wariness and longing.

" The wand is another matter…I must separate the boy from it or I will never prevail against him."

He well remembered the last time they had meet in battle. It was during their last duel that Voldemort had discovered Harry owned the brother of his own wand. Because of this they could never work properly against each other without resulting in the rare reverse spell effect _Priory Incantatem_. They were unable to duel in the normal manner and so a duel was both useless and dangerous. He glared at Harry's wand for a moment longer wishing he could make it burst into flame from this distance but he knew all to well that it was too soon to make his presence felt. It was essential to his plan to remain in hiding for a little while longer. The Death Eaters were getting restless and, though he could well understand their feelings, the plan must come first and must be held to even over the desires of many of his followers. There would be plenty of time for them to have their sport after it was successfully concluded. 

A cruel smile twisted his snakelike features. He would have Harry Potter's life and the powers that had been stolen from him 14 years ago…he would destroy the safe haven Harry thought he had at Hogwarts…he would take the boy from the very place where he felt safest and in full view of the fools who had sought to protect him…he would be imprisoned for a long time in a place so remote that none could ever hope to find him and from which escape would be impossible…there, with lies and torture, Harry spirit would be broken, crushed beyond repair and then in front of a now grieving wizarding world, having at last unmasked the lies they'd been believing for months, he would exact his revenge upon them all by killing their savior before their very eyes. A more suitable revenge would have been to turn Harry against Dumbledore and the others but that was, of course, out of the question. The plan he'd devised would ensure that the wizarding community felt the full extent of his wrath, the bulk which would fall upon Harry. Before it was over Harry would be wishing he'd died that Halloween night 14 years before.

"There will be no escape for you this time…no one will come and save you…there will be nowhere you can hide and nothing you can do…"

Glaring at Harry's image in the mirror, he laughed a mirthless laugh and swept from the room. Summoning his Death Eaters to him, he set about putting stage two of his plan in motion; the plan that would bring about the destruction of Harry Potter and through him the world.

****

Harry Potter sat alone before the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room trying to figure out what was going on, wishing that he knew why Voldemort had made no attacks since his return to power in June. The first thing he'd done when he arrived at the Weasley's near the end of the summer holidays was to get an update on what Voldemort had been doing and what plans might be in the works for the defense of the wizarding world. Harry had been growing more and more concerned all summer because the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead had sat mute. This had him extremely worried. With Voldemort's return to power at the end of last term Harry had expected it to ache continually as Voldemort began to attack wizards and Muggles alike. Except for a brief moment very early in the summer there'd been no pain in it at all. Harry had been farther unnerved by the complete absence of any news of mysterious deaths or even disappearances (two things which had marked Voldemort's rise to power 14 years before) in the Muggle world. Harry had taken to watching the news on television and reading the newspaper, searching for any hint of news that might indicate that Voldemort was attempting to regain the hold he'd had over the world in the past. There was nothing and that frightened Harry more then news of attacks would have for it meant that Voldemort was planning something else and that plan likely involved him. The Dursley's, of course, had questioned him about his strange behavior but he had not really answered them. They were Muggles and could not possibly understand what he was going through and even _if_ they could be made to understand they wouldn't even care. They hated Harry and the powers he'd been born with and they would probably be relieved if he _never_ returned to them. This summer more then ever before he had dreaded his forced exile for the wizarding world, an exile that was necessary in order to keep him from Voldemort's grasp, because it prevented him from hearing anything of what was happening there.

He'd found this lack of news in the Muggle world extremely suspicious and this plus the fact that his scar wasn't bothering him disturbed him so much that the moment he arrived at the Weasley's he'd demanded to know everything that had been going on since he'd left the wizarding world at the end of the school year. What he was told was very disturbing, more disturbing then the lack of news in the Muggle world had been. There was no indication that Voldemort was back in power. Nothing. Like the Muggle media, the _Daily Prophet_ was empty of the usual stories that had been associated with Voldemort and his previous rise to power. No one had been killed nor had there been any attacks or disappearances. The Dark Mark had not been seen since the Quidditch World Cup of the year before. It was as if Voldemort and his Death Eaters had vanished from the face of the earth. It was unnerving to those who knew of or believed that he had risen again. To make matters worse, Fudge was still denying anything unusual had happened at the Triwizard Tournament and he was making it known publicly that he considered both Dumbledore and Harry as untrustworthy. There was a rumor that Dumbledore was being asked to step down as Headmaster of Hogwarts by Fudge and that if he would not leave quietly "other means would be found to remove him."

"There is no indication that Voldemort is back…beyond what you told Dumbledore after the Tournament, Harry," said Mr. Weasley after Harry had questioned him. "A lot of people are having a hard time believing Dumbledore or excepting the truth as anything more then rumor when there is no sign of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Not so much as a Dark Mark in the sky. It's odd…very odd. Dumbledore's credit is not good at the present time and I'm afraid that this incident is going to have serious repercussions on you as well as on many who have supported him through the years."

"What repercussions? What has been going on here?"

"Arthur…can't this wait…?"

" No, Molly. It can't. Harry needs to know what's been happening…all of it. He needs to be able to prepare himself. Everything has changed and he needs to understand that."

"What has changed…what's happening, Mr. Weasley?" said Harry, with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

Mr. Weasley looked gravely up at Harry, so gravely that Harry felt a stab of fear in his heart. Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry sadly and muttered, "why now of all times? Why can't they just leave him alone?"

"What is it? Please tell me…"

"Fudge is saying…" and here Mr. Weasley sighed heavily, "he's saying that you are a bit mad…that the Triwizard tasks last year unhinged you…and that you…you were responsible for the death of Cedric Diggory…He's asked for an inquiry into the matter…wants to test you under Veritaserum…"

Harry's mouth opened and closed, so shocked was he by what he was hearing that it had driven whatever he'd been thinking out of his mind. He flinched as if he'd been struck. The world seemed to be spinning and his heart felt as if a great weight was being pressed upon it. 

"An inquiry…? Veritaserum…"

At once Harry knew that he couldn't do it; he couldn't let Fudge give him the truth potion. He remembered what Professor Snape had said last year. If he drank so much as a drop he would spill every secret he had. He had to protect Sirius from the Ministry until he could be proven innocent and even though he had seen Pettigrew alive Fudge would probably deny any such thing…and yet the honor of his family was at stake. If he didn't attend the inquiry then the Potter name would be ruined…

Mr. Weasley must have seen some of what was going on inside Harry's mind written clearly on his face because he said in a quiet and comforting voice:

"He can't touch you though…not as long as Dumbledore or any of the Hogwarts staff that is loyal to him remain…but the effect on people…"

Harry's hands balled into fists at the memory of this conversation. He'd seen signs of the effect Fudge's word were having on people in Diagon Alley when he'd gone to get his supplies and books for school. Shopkeepers had given him odd looks and kept their eyes on him at all times, clearly afraid that he would go barking mad in their shops. He could deal with this of course as he only went to Diagon Alley once a year. What hurt him more, however, was the attitude toward him of most of his classmates. The Slytherins, particularly Draco Malfoy who had jumped on him the minute he'd arrived on the train, had wasted no time in gloating over this new development. Harry knew he would never be accepted by them, there was too much animosity between the Gryffindor and Slytherin House in general and Malfoy and him in particular to expect anything but jeers, taunts and insults from them. His fellow Gryffindors, on the other hand, seemed determined to show their support of him in his current difficulties. They would tell anyone who would listen that Harry was _not _a killer and that someone was obviously going to great trouble to malign the Potter name. They also would remind anyone who would sit still long enough of his courage and honesty and the fact that he came from a highly respected and old wizarding family. He was grateful for their support and for the support of the staff at Hogwarts too but what really bothered him was the way he was being avoided and shunned by members of the other two Houses: Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. 

He was used to whispers following him wherever he went because he was famous for having banished Voldemort at the age of one year but the whispers he was hearing now were not friendly. He could tell by the dark and/or fearful looks everyone was giving him as they gathered in huddled, whispering groups in the Great Hall or in the corridors between classes. Hermione and Ron had both advised him to ignore the whispers and taunts. 

"When they stop to think about it they'll realize how silly they are being. I mean, honestly," said Hermione, her eyes glued to a page in the _Standard Book of Spells Grade 5_ that she was studying.

"Yeah Harry. I wouldn't worry too much about it," said Ron as he looked up at Harry from measuring an essay for Prof. Binns. "You're the Boy Who Lived after all."

Harry hadn't agreed with his friends at the time of their conversation and now three months had passed with no sign that the others would let this matter drop. Nearly every day, Harry was threatened by large groups of students who surrounded him in corridors or trapped him in empty classrooms to hiss insults at him or, more often, to push him around or hit him. The Gryffindors were outraged at the other Houses' treatment of Harry and several fights had already broken out between angry Gryffindors and students from other houses in defense of Harry. Harry, for himself, never struck the first blow and more often then not would allow them to strike him without returning the blow he'd received hoping that by doing so they would stop. It had all been to no avail. The attacks continued, growing more violent as the year progress and in addition to the physical attacks, Harry began receiving threatening notes by owl.

The only solace Harry found was in flying over the Quidditch Pitch in search of the Snitch at practice or during matches. At least there he had only to worry about the Bludgers. While he flew he could leave his troubles behind him on the ground, for a while anyway, and just concentrate on the game. Gryffindor had won their first match, which was against Hufflepuff. It had been very hard for Harry and the rest of the team to play or to even concentrate. The Hufflepuff team was still mourning the loss of Cedric Diggory and had added black armbands to their uniforms in his honor. The match had been a solemn affair and Harry had played with tears in his eyes the entire match remembering everything that had passed that night last June. He was therefore surprised when he found he had caught the Snitch a half an hour into the game. He and the other Gryffindors had claimed their victory in Cedric's name. The Slytherins, who the Gryffindors would play in November, had booed and jeered but the rest of the school had applauded.

Harry smiled briefly at the memory but then he gazed back into the Common Room fire and tried to figure out what was happening. He seemed to be being attacked from all sides by people he thought were at least marginally friendly to him. Something was definitely wrong here and Harry was willing to stake his life that Voldemort had something to do with it…and yet of Him there had been no sign. It was as if Voldemort had never risen or had never existed. Then there was this business with Fudge. Thus far Dumbledore had managed to remain Headmaster but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he would be forced to leave. Fudge had kept to his attacks on both of them, declaring that Dumbledore and Harry "_were hiding a deep dark secret worse then the fact that Harry Potter could speak Parseltongue."_ Harry stared glumly into the fire, its flickering flames casting his face into shadow. He was tired but he didn't feel like moving, wariness had settled over him like a warm cloak. He was sitting there letting the dancing flames mesmerize him, not really think of anything, when he fell asleep.

He awoke sometime later with a crick in his neck from the position he's been sleeping in and a flash of pain across his scar but in the same instant he'd register the fact that his scar hurt the pain disappeared. He wondered what it meant and he tried to remember what he had been dreaming about but he was unable to. He felt as tense as a harp string that was tuned to high. Something was happening, he was sure of it. He could feel it in the air, like a voice he could hardly hear. Something was very wrong. He looked around the now dark Common Room as if expecting Voldemort to be standing there waiting to spring on him yet there was nothing. Just as he was about to brush off the feeling he was having as false, his scar burned with a searing pain which arced through his body and he tumbled to the floor with his hands pressed over his eyes. His heart thudded in his chest and he lay on the floor dimly aware of the screams, which echoed, in his mind while seeming to be coming from all around him at the same time. He couldn't see anything for the pain that seemed to be splitting his head in two but he saw in his mind's eye a town being attacked by Death Eaters. He saw the Dark Mark light up the sky but it was different then the one he'd seen last summer. There was still a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth but the skull now bore a lightning bolt across its forehead in the exact location of Harry's scar. He looked up at it through a haze of pain and confusion trying to figure out what it meant and then he heard high, cold laughter.Voldemort was there…Harry tried to scramble away from the laughter but he found he was rooted to the spot. The pain in his scar grew more intense and then Voldemort spoke, his hissing voice echoing in Harry's mind. 

"This is but a small repayment for the years that I was imprisoned by you. Know this well…one town for each of those 14 years and one friend for each time you escaped me…unless you chose to surrender to me now…"

The pain grew almost impossible to stand; Harry was screaming because of it. He was rolling on the floor, the pain holding him in its grip but still he found the strength somewhere to answer Voldemort.

"NEVER! You'll have to kill me…I'd rather die…" he hissed through clenched teeth. 

Voldemort's cruel laugh echoed in his mind again as the pain grew worse. 

"Know this then…I will destroy all you hold dear…I will crush you…mind, body and soul…Your name which was once a blessing shall now and forever be cursed…

He glared down at Harry and then reached out a finger to touch his cheek as he had done before. Harry felt a white hot pain in his scar and felt it burning beneath his hand. Harry began to see blackness at the edges of his vision and his screams became louder as his body spasmed with the pain. He tried to will himself to remain conscious but he knew it was a losing battle. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was the sound of running feet and Voldemort's cold voice saying: " Consider this a warning, Potter. You will die as alone and friendless as you once tried to do to me. Harry's vision faded then and he heard, like an echo, Professor Trelawny's voice saying: "_alone and friendless". _


	2. Dreams of the Past

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter 2: Dreams of the Past

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters but then none of us do.The lullaby is an old Welsh one called "_Suo-Gan". _Thank you to everyone who reviewed my last one. I hope you enjoy this one too.

_Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…_

_Lily Potter_

_Chapter 9_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

_But your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you…_

_Voldemort_

_Chapter 17_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

_ _

Voices were swirling above him but he couldn't make out what they were saying for the pounding in his head. The voices faded in and out, seeming to come from a great distance. He tried to open his eyes but found that was unable to summon the strength to do so. He was very tired, worn out physically and emotionally. He lay unmoving on the bed and waited for sleep to claim him. He was waiting for the darkness to carry him off and as he waited one voice rose high above the others and became crystal clear. It was a familiar woman's voice singing softly, lovingly. He felt wrapped in the love coming from that voice. The song was one he knew but how or why he knew it he had no idea. The words seemed to echo within his mind as if from some far, yet hidden, corner of his brain.

"_Why do you smile now_

_So tenderly in your sleep?_

_Are angels smiling on you_

_As you smile tenderly? _

_Fear not, it is only a leaf_

_Knocking at the door_

_It is only a solitary little wave_

_Rippling on the shore_

_Sleep, my child_

_Nothing here can frighten you…_

_ _

Harry felt a soft hand brush his face and for the first time in ages he felt himself relax. Then he felt a soft kiss on his forehead right where his scar was burning. The kiss was as light as a feather and the soft voice continued to hum the song. Harry felt as if he were a very small child being cradled by his mother. The pain in his scar receded and he felt himself relaxing farther as he listened to the soft humming coming from somewhere overhead. He felt himself falling into a deeper sleep then he had been in a moment before.

__~

The voice was still humming somewhere above him, quiet and reassuring. Harry felt happy and safe. Nothing could ever harm him as long as the lady remained nearby; he somehow had always known this. Yet, he detected a faint note of fear and sadness in the voice singing above him. His eyes snapped open and, at once, he knew he had to be dreaming. A woman's face with bright green eyes like his own and a halo of dark red hair made redder still by the light shining behind it was looking down at him. She was smiling at him and humming softly but at the same time tears were trickling down her face.

She bent lower and Harry felt her long hair tickle his cheek. He reached up to brush the strand of hair away and his fingers became tangled in the strand.

"Mum."

Lily's eyes lit up and her smile brightened as she untangled his fingers from her hair.

"Mum," she agreed softly, with a loving but sad smile as she lifted him out of what he could see now was a crib to hold him closely.

He tried to catch the details of the room but could only make out the lamp on the dresser, which was covered in moving wizard pictures of Harry as a baby and his parents. Most of the rest of the room was cast in shadow there was no light coming in from the two windows that Harry could see. The only other light was coming from a luminous clock, which had three hands. The hands all pointed to "Mortal Peril" and two of them were glowing an evil green while the third seemed to be glowing the scarlet of blood. There was a date shining beneath the three hands: 31 October 1981.

"Mum," Harry said softly, tears running down his face as he saw the date, knowing what was about to happen and powerless to prevent it. 

"Harry. I'm sorry. Sorry we will not be there for you," she held him tighter. "He will come tonight…I can feel it. He will try to take you but it will be over my dead body. I swear I'll protect you from him!"

Lily started to hum the Lullaby again and Harry felt his eyelids beginning to drop. He jerked them open wanting to remain awake and stared into his mother's determined face. 

"You know there's something wrong, little Harry?" she said wonderingly. 

Harry began to cry, unable to stop, knowing what was coming. He could feel it in the air now, a sense of evil, of darkness rushing toward the house where he was. He reached out a hand and touched his mother's face where her tears were falling and began to cry harder. She took his small hand in her own and Harry saw the flash of silver on the ring finger of it. She kissed his hand and dried his tears.

"You are more special then any of us knew, very powerful in magic…" Lily's voice trailed off and she became lost in a vision that only she could see. "There is so little time left to us and there are things you must know. "

Harry found himself wishing that he could somehow help ease her sorrow but he knew that he could not affect a dream. 

"Know that we will always love you," Lily looked in his eyes and Harry looked back into hers, seeing himself reflected there.

He stretched out his hand and grabbed another strand of her vivid red hair. She looked at him with a faraway look in her eyes and a loving smile that trembled slightly.

"Know that we died so that you could live to carry on our fight against evil."

She untangled his fingers from her hair yet again and placing him backs in his crib. He reached out to her and gave a cry. She looked longingly at him for a moment and bent down to kiss him on the forehead, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She moved away from the crib and returned with her wand, which she pointed at him.

"Instructs Totals Memento," She whispered and he felt a strange sensation in his mind.

It sounded as if someone was speaking to him, giving him instructions, but he could make no sense of the words.

"These memories will be hidden until you need them but you shall always know these defensive spells."

There was the sound of a door slamming somewhere close by and Harry could feel his scar burning with the closeness of Voldemort even though it was his sleeping body that had the scar not the infant's body his spirit was currently occupying. Then he heard the door to the room burst open and his father's panicked voice floated above him.

"Lily…it's Him…take Harry and run…I'll try to hold him off…you must get him away. He's too important to the cause."

Harry saw his mother's face turn away from him and nod.

"Why us, James? What did we ever do to deserve this?" Her voice was angry but steady and calm.

"You must go, now…please Lily. As we planned in the beginning."

Harry saw his Dad's face crowned with its messy black hair looking down at him then. James bent down to give his son a last kiss.

"I love you, Harry," he said quietly then his face was gone.

Harry saw their shadows embrace but he could not see them looking intently into each other's eyes for a moment. He heard a small sob coming from his mother and a soft whisper from his father. Then the door opened and James was gone. 

"Dad!" he cried, hearing almost instantly the sound of a duel in the next room.

"There is no more time. I must leave you now," she gave him one more kiss and pointed her wand at him again. She began to speak the words of an ancient spell, tears shining in the light of her wand. Harry strained to hear the exact words but he could only make out pieces of it. 

"Grant protection from death…

That he should rise again…

My life in exchange…

This my oath…

Blood of the …willingly taken"

Harry saw something reflecting in the lamplight, shining silver and then he heard another voice and saw again Wormtail's silver dagger, firelight glinting off its polished surface. He was back at the Riddle graveyard and he could hear Wormtail's wheezy voice.

  
"Blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…"

Harry felt the dagger pierce him again and he heard the high evil laughter of Voldemort. 

He yelled, tossing and turning on the bed. He could see Voldemort's blank red eyes glowing in the darkness. He was staring right at Harry with a look of intense hatred on his face. He pointed a wand at Harry a smirk playing about his mouth. 

"Alone. You will be left alone and friendless. No one can save you."

"Alone….alone…." Harry hears a chorus of voices echoing around him.

Voldemort made a motion with his wand and Harry's felt intense pain. He writhed around trying to escape it but the pain remained.It was everywhere and it was so acute that Harry found himself sitting bolt upright in bed with his hands over his face. He could feel sweat rolling off him and tears stinging his eyes but the pain in his dream had gone. He laid back down and tried to go back to sleep but it was a long time before he was able to shut his eyes and an even longer time before he could relax enough to sleep.

~

Harry returned to class the following Monday with a heart full of foreboding. His scar hadn't stopped aching since that first dream in the Hospital Wing and it had begun to ache more with each passing night as he saw in his dreams two other towns attacked. He's said nothing to anyone though because he wasn't sure anyone would believe him and he wasn't sure of the validity of his dreams either. Ever since the day he'd fainted he'd been looking in the _Daily Prophet _for any news of attacks by Voldemort's Death Eaters but there were no such reports. To all outward appearances things were normal in the wizarding world. This hadn't worried him the first time he couldn't find an article but he grew alarmed when he could find nothing about any of the three attacks. In desperation, he even searched the papers in the Muggle world. There was nothing unusual there either. 

"Am I losing my mind?" he thought as he rubbed his scar.

The other students clearly thought he had. They were now acting as if he had some kind of plague or something. He could hear them whispering as he walked to the Great Hall for lunch after Professor Flitwick's class. He sat down next to Ron and Hermione and began to absentmindedly pile food on his plate. Across the Hall at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was making faces at Harry and doing spirited imitations of Harry fainting, which caused nearly the whole hall to laugh. Over the heads of people at the house tables Harry saw Malfoy smirk at him in silent challenge. Angry, Harry stood up, his lunch forgotten, and began to walk over to the Slytherin table. Ron grabbed the back of his robes as he passed and dragged him out of the room.

"Crazy Potter and whining Weasley!" Malfoy called after them. 

Ron felt Harry struggling to escape but he continued to steer Harry from the Hall, pointedly ignoring Malfoy and the now chortling Slytherins. After a few minutes Hermione joined them. Her face was flush and her eyes were snapping and for a moment Ron wondered whether she had slapped Malfoy again. Hermione, however, didn't offer any information. She was instead looking with concern at Harry whose eyes Ron noticed were looking out of focus and glazed over. Suddenly Harry screamed and then fell bonelessly to the floor in a heap.

Ron looked at Hermione over Harry's limp, unconscious body and saw fear in her eyes.

"What is wrong with him?"

"We need to find Dumbledore," she said, in a tone that broked no argument. " Ron, go and see if his is still at the staff table."

Ron took one look at Hermione and then he ran back the way they had come. He found Dumbledore in deep conversation with Snape at the entrance to the dungeons. He waited for them to finish their conversation and for Snape to leave before he approached the Headmaster. 

"Professor!" he called softly but urgently to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned around and seeing the look on Ron's face he somehow knew that it had to do with Harry. They returned to the place where Ron had left Hermione and Harry. They found Hermione trying to awaken Harry but he remained limp and unconscious. They half carried half dragged him to an empty classroom and laid him down. He began to cry out but they could not make out words. Then he thrashed around on the floor as if he was having some kind of fit. 

_"His power grows, drawing nearer with each hour," _Harry said in a faraway voice not at all like his own.

The three of them looked at each other.

_"Darkness will descend, the evil will grow."_

"Professor?

"What is going on?"

Dumbledore waved a hand for silence.

# "The Light will vanish and with it all hope"

Harry's hand flew to his scar and his eyes opened looking at nothing.

# "Pain unending for one, but it must be endured"

_ _

"Why?" Dumbledore asked softly.

_"The time of testing is at hand. The time of final battle draws nearer."_

Harry's face became a mask of intense pain and tears fell from his staring eyes.

_"The one who died and was reborn will face a trial by fire and the heir shall then claim his own."_

_ _

"The heir?" Hermione looked at Dumbledore but he was still looking at Harry.

_"Danger lays ahead…great danger for all."_

_ _

Harry's eyes began to roll up inside his head and his body trembled.

# "In the darkest hour…a sacrifice was made. It must be renewed."

Ron and Hermione looked up at Dumbledore questioningly.

_"The past and the future must now become one. The time of secrets is ended."_

_ _

"For what purpose?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

# "The fate of the world hangs in balance. The Dark Sigil flames…beware."

Harry's face relaxed and the voice trailed off. He lay still with his eyes closed and his breathing normal. Then suddenly he began to breath rapidly as if he were running. They saw Harry raise his arm as if to ward off a blow and then he screamed, a shriek of such terror that the three of them trembled to hear it.

_"They join their master. Terror will stalk the streets."_

_ _

A shiver ran through Harry's body then he went completely limp again and when they touched him they found he was cold and clammy. They looked from Harry to each other and back again and wondered what this meant.

~

Harry was dreaming again. He stood in front of a small cottage surrounded by tall trees and flowers of all kinds. He heard a voice calling him and saw his mother standing in the doorway with her arms outstretched. He began to run toward her as fast as his baby legs to carry him. He felt something trip him and he began to fall down. Just as he was about to hit the ground he heard a swishing noise behind him and felt someone grab him. Harry laughed and turned to face his father whose eyes were twinkling merrily.

"How is my young partner in mischief?" he said laughing at the confused look Harry was giving him. "I've done it again, well never mind."

He ruffled Harry's hair and grinned. Harry began to laugh and bounce on his father's lap. 

"Fast fly!" he cried still laughing.

James and Harry looked down at where Lily stood, looking at her with identical grins on their faces. James looked pleadingly and Harry copied his expression, as they hovered in the air inches from her face. 

"Oh, get on with you then!" she said in mock exasperation. "Just be sure to be back by supper. I won't keep the food warm for you if you're late."

They bent down to kiss her cheek and flew over the garden, which made a colorful pattern below them. 

"Be careful!" she called after them.

They waved at her and soon left her behind as they flew higher into the clear blue sky. Harry could feel the wind on his face and saw the ground far below him making patterns of light and shadow. He saw the village that was near the house where he lived with his parents looking like a toy village from this height. The river that ran through the village was a shimmering ribbon of silver shining in the sunlight. He could hear birdcalls and turned his head to see a flock of birds flying on a path that intersected with their own. They were swooping and calling to one another in some game that only the birds understood. James flew a bit lower and the birds swooped and darted overhead close enough that Harry thought he could reach out and touch one. A small sparrow flew toward them and landed on the handle of the broom in front of Harry. It looked at him a moment, bowed its head and chirped. To Harry's surprise he could understand it as if it was speaking English.

"The heir has come…the heir has come!" the young bird piped. 

Suddenly there were birds all around him, looking at him and bowing at him in midair. He stared back at them and then reached out to touch the sparrow. It let him touch the soft feathers on its head before it flew off again to rejoin the game the others had returned to. Harry, not understanding what was going on, turned to his father and found his father looking as confused as Harry felt. 

"Its time to go back to your mother."

James turned the broom around in midair and speed back toward the house. 

Harry murmured in his sleep and turned over. For a brief instant Harry saw again the image of Buckbeak bowing deeply before him in his third year. Then the image melted away and he found himself in the middle of another dream.

~

Several hours later, Ron and Hermione sat in the Headmasters office waiting for an explanation of what happened earlier in the day. Harry was still unconscious in the Hospital Wing and they were growing concerned about him. Dumbledore sat behind his desk with his hands steepled in front of him. His beard glinted in the torch light and his blue eyes looked bewildered. He looked around the circular room as if expecting the answer to his quandary to be written on the walls. He sighed heavily and looked at Fawkes, who stared calmly back at him from his perch by the door. 

"Professor? You said you would explain what happened," Hermione began but Ron interrupted her.

"What is wrong with Harry, Sir?"

Dumbledore looked from Fawkes back to the two students before him. He saw that their faces mirrored the concern he was feeling in his heart and he wondered how much of the truth they could handle. He had carried the secret of Harry's past these many years, keeping the secret as he'd been asked to by James and Lily long ago. There were just too many ways this could be used against Harry and he needed to be sure that Harry was ready for the information before he revealed it. So he'd kept it hidden in a corner of his brain waiting for the right time to tell Harry as he had promised.

Ron and Hermione looked at Dumbledore expectantly. It was plain that they were as worried about Harry as he was. Looking deeply into their eyes he knew they could handle the truth but still he hesitated wanting to keep this secret for a while longer. He glance at Fawkes and the phoenix rose from his perch and flew across the room to land on the arm of his chair. He stroked the phoenix's gleaming feathers silently. Fawkes looked into his eyes and Dumbledore nodded.

Dumbledore looked from Fawkes to Ron and Hermione. He saw again briefly the power, which swirled around them. Harry had found powerful allies in these two. He was as certain of this as he was of the fact that he would soon be asking much more from everyone and from the three of them most of all.

"Professor?" said Hermione quietly, disrupting his thoughts.

He knew then that whatever the consequences Harry's friends deserved nothing less then the truth. 

"I'm not exactly certain where to begin," he said softly, praying that he was not about to destroy their friendship but knowing the time for secrets was at an end.


	3. Prophecy of Godric Gryffindor

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Three: The Prophecy of Godric Gryffindor

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this just the plot. I'm also not making any money from this story so don't sue me. I just want to thank all of you who have been reviewing this and sorry this part wasn't up sooner but I've broken my wrist so typing is a real chore now. Hope you enjoy this one.

You will know one day…put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older…I know you hate to hear this…when you are ready, you will know.

# Albus Dumbledore

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_Chapter 17_

_ _

The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.

# Albus Dumbledore

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_Chapter 17_

Ron and Hermione looked at Dumbledore expectantly and inwardly he sighed. Everything they thought they knew about Harry was about to be turned upside down by what he was about to tell them.

"In order to understand what I'm about to tell you I must start with the founding of Hogwarts and a book of prophecy written by Godric Gryffindor concerning the future that has been handed down to every Hogwarts Head since the beginning."

Ron and Hermione looked puzzled by this. 

"There is nothing about a prophecy in _Hogwarts: A History_." Dumbledore heard Hermione mutter.

"Not everything about the school and its founders is written in that book, Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed but continued to look at Dumbledore.

"Least of all the information I'm about to pass on to you," Dumbledore looked at them and Ron and Hermione felt as though he was looking right through them.

"You know all about the founding of Hogwarts, so I needn't tell the whole story to you again. There are, however, things that have been left out of that story, like Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. What is not too well known though is that Godric Gryffindor had many very rare gifts, gifts that have been passed down through the ages to those who carry his blood.One of these gifts was the gift of Prophecy. He was a true Seer and he could see into the future, not just hours or days but years into it."

Hermione looked at Dumbledore for a moment, shock and disbelief in her eyes.

"Sir, you must forgive me but divination is a very imprecise branch of magic…"

"You sound like Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore smiled at Hermione before continuing. "And under ordinary circumstances that may be true. True seers are very rare but Gryffindor's gift was a very powerful one and all that he has predicted thus far has come to pass."

Ron looked as if he was going to ask about these predictions but Dumbledore stopped him with a raised hand.

"There is only one set of Gryffindor's prophecies that are relevant at the moment, however, " Dumbledore continued gravely, looking at them both sharply.

Ron and Hermione closed their mouths on whatever questions they were about to ask. Dumbledore got up from his desk and walked to an ornately carved shelf that held some ancient leather bound books, the Sorting Hat and a silver and ruby sword in a glass case. He skimmed the titles and then finally pulled a book bound in faded red leather with gold writing on the spine. He returned to the desk and they saw the title glimmering in the candlelight. 

Signs and Portents of the Future: The Prophecies of G.Gryffindor, First Hogwarts Headmaster.

_ _

Dumbledore turned the ancient pages carefully until he reached the middle of the book. A scent of dust, old leather and ink hovered over the desk were the three of them sat. Dumbledore sighed and began to read from the yellowed and faded pages.

"In the Year of Our Lord 1926 will two Heirs be born at the same hour of the same day. One will be the heir to Darkness for the blood of the Snake shall run through his veins; the other will be heir to the Light and in him shall run the blood of the Lion. These two will be twins in power and be much alike in situation. Both are destined to lose their parents and to be forever marked by tragedy. The one of Darkness will forever be turned to evil by this loss while the other will "die" and then be reborn, taken out of time to fight again. Ever and anon the Twain shall meet and the Darkness will be held at bay until the day two shall be made one. The past and future at last shall meet, the Dark and Light shall merge as was foretold and then will Darkness rule the day. The Heir of Light will face great danger and death will rise to claim him yet be denied. Like a phoenix he will rise from the ashes to live again. Many shall question his trustworthiness for he too holds powers Dark, gifted him on a day of sacrifice. Endless years of sorrow and pain will then be the Heir's as friends around him fall yet his will remains strong in the time of testing. Three years will pass and Darkness will grow stronger but so to will the Phoenix, his many gifts made manifest. The years will pass and on the Day of Death, at very hour of his parents sacrifice, will the Heir at last complete the spell begun long before to insure final victory for the Light. By his blood it shall then be forever sealed; a sacrifice renewed and when next the two foes meet the Darkness then will Gryffindor's Heir defeat."

There was a deep silence in the room as Dumbledore finished reading. Ron's freckles stood out in his pale face and Hermione's eyes were rounded with shock. Then she shook her head and looked at Dumbledore with questioning eyes.

"The prophecy runs several lines more but these are the lines that matter…" began Dumbledore.

"Professor, there is just one thing. Gryffindor seems to have gotten the dates mixed up…" Hermione trailed off when she noticed Dumbledore looking at her.

"The prophecy is quite accurate, Miss Granger, just as all the others have been

Ron shook himself out of his stupor and glanced at Hermione before speaking.

"How can this be, sir? I mean the prophecy is about Harry and You-Know-Who isn't it? Well, Harry can't have been born in 1926…he's our age."

Hermione nodded her head vigorously and stared at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at them gravely and they stared solemnly back at him.

" Harry is Voldmort's twin, the one born in the same hour of the same day and that day was July 31, 1926," said Dumbledore calmly, though his insides were trembling.

Dumbledore looked at their shocked faces and inwardly he sighed. This was turning out to be harder than he thought.The two students sat mute, clearly unable to say anything. Finally, Ron's mouth began to move, trying to say something. 

"How…Why?" he finally managed to sputter, utterly flabbergasted by the news.

Hermione sat with her mouth opening and closing but no sound came out of it. She looked at Dumbledore with wide eyes and a look of disbelief.

"It was my doing. I brought the then infant Harry to this time from the past. As for why… that will take some explaining…"

*

Harry was tossing and turning on his bed in the grips of another nightmare. There was death and chaos all around him and his scar felt as if it was on fire. He put a hand over it and tried to see what was happening more clearly. He tried to block out the screams he could hear echoing inside his mind and the pain in his head long enough to get a good look around. There were people running and the smell of smoke was heavy in the air around him. Everything seemed to be cast in an eerie green glow that filtered through the clouds of smoke that hung before him. The smoke and the green light distorted objects and all sound, giving the dream a surreal quality and making everything seem misty and blurred. Angrily, he brushed the smoke aside and for an instant it cleared to reveal another Dark Mark hovering just inches above him. It still bore the strange lightening bolt across its forehead. He could hear people screaming…no calling out his name, their voices filled with hatred, fear and infinite sorrow. He tried to listen, to hear what they were saying but all he could hear was his name echoing around as if a chorus of phantoms were calling him from their graves. He closed his eyes and willed everything around him to fall silent so that he could hear what the distant voices were saying but still he only caught one thing:

"belongs to the Dark Lord".

"Harry Potter… belongs to the Dark Lord," the wind seemed to echo and then he heard Voldemort's ringing laughter and saw his eyes glowing in the distance. His scar flared with blinding pain at the sight of them.

"Nice of you to join me here, brother," Voldemort said scathingly. "See what your insolent refusal to my demands has wrought!"

For just a moment the smoke around him cleared and Harry could see for a minute a wide cobblestone street littered with glass, debris and bodies of the dead and dying. He could still hear their screams of anguish and the Death Eaters laughter.He also saw the name of the town and hung his head in despair, for this time the name of the town was as familiar to him as Hogwarts.

"Your spirit shall belong to me as it was always meant to be. You will become mine." 

Voldemort's laughter echoed inside Harry's mind and he's scar began to burn worse then ever until he found that he was screaming because of the pain. Voldemort pointed his long wand at Harry and uttered a spell but what it was Harry never found out because at that moment he jerked awake. His scar was burning under his hand and he was shaking. His breath was coming in short gasps and he could feel cold sweat on his face. He looked around the Hospital Wing and was relieved to find that it was empty. He took several deep, calming breaths and wiped the sweat from his face. He then poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the bedside table and drank it in one swallow. He stared out the nearby window at the gathering darkness, not really thinking of anything, trying to calm himself and after several minutes his heart stopped pounding so hard and he managed to stop shaking.

He ran a hand through his hair, his scar still throbbing with pain. He ran a finger over it hoping to stop the stinging, all the while knowing that another town had fallen and that Voldemort was getting closer to his ultimate target: him. Harry picked up a roll of parchment, a bottle of ink and his eagle feather quill from the table and began to note down everything he could remember about his dream. Sirius had advised him to do this so that he would have a written record of all his dreams that he could look back over later when he was in a better mind to deal with the meanings behind those dreams. As he finished writing down all he could remember up to the point he'd awakened, he wondered what all his dreams meant.

"They are all so vivid, like the two dreams I had last year," he thought, glancing through the two rolls of parchment he'd already filled with his dreams.

There seemed to be two types of dreams he was experiencing. One set was about events happening in the past and in them he saw his parents and himself as they had been before Voldemort's attack.

"These must be memories of my own past, " he thought, looking back over them and reading some of what he'd written down. "But what do the nightmares mean?"

Harry glared down at the parchment and frowned at the words there. These nightmares all had three things in common: the strangely altered Dark Mark, Voldemort speaking gloatingly of Harry's downfall and cities that were attacked in the night but whose names Harry had never heard of. 

"Except for the town in tonight's nightmare," he thought as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

He ran a hand through his hair again. He'd been unable to find anything in the Daily Prophet about any of the attacks he'd seen in his dreams. There was still no indication that Voldemort had made any kind of move at all. In desperation, Harry had begun to search the archives of the Daily Prophet back to beginning of Voldemort's previous bid for power and had looked in every book that he thought might have any information on the subject. He had hoped to run across one or more of the names he'd written down but none of the towns attacked in his dreams were listed in the paper nor did they appear in any of the books on the subject.

Harry lent back onto his pillow and closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought. Voldemort was going to move against him again and soon. He was as sure of this as of the names of the six fallen cities. He felt himself slipping back into slumber with another dream hovering like a shadow at the very edges of his mind.

"How can I know about something that has not even happened yet?" he thought sleepily.

At the question his eyes flew open and he came instantly awake again. He grabbed the rolls of parchment again and stared at them. It couldn't be and yet…Harry scanned the names of the towns again, each name causing a memory from the associated dream to surface. He looked at the very last one from the dream he'd just awoken from and knew, with certainty, what his dreams meant. Hogsmeade had never to his knowledge been attacked and if it had been attacked recently everyone in the school would surely have known about it. That could mean only one thing…Harry Potter shivered as he lay back down and stared at the ceiling.

"I am dreaming about the future."

*

"Professor, I don't think I understand, " Hermione said with a bewildered look on her face that was being mirrored by Ron. "This is something that is virtually impossible to accomplish and is not altogether legal either."

"It was necessary."

Hermione looked at Dumbledore in surprise and Ron simply stared as if deception and deceit were something that he'd never thought to catch Dumbledore involved in.

"Let me explain. I was a young wizard in 1926 and I awoke on the last night of July of that year to find that Fawkes was piping a strange song I had never heard before and had only read of in books. Then two of his tail feathers fell to floor of my bedroom in a shower of scarlet and gold sparks. They lay there shimmering on the floor, casting a pale glow around the room. Fawkes looked meaningfully at me and let out one long note before going back to sleep. Now as far as you two are in your studies you must realize how rare it is for a phoenix to drop one feather much less two without going through a Burning Day. "

Ron and Hermione nodded and waited for him to continue.

"I knew something special had happened for a phoenix only drops its feathers intact when a powerful wizard or witch is born and the feathers that are dropped are destined to be the cores of that wizard or witch's wand. That Fawkes had dropped two meant that two powerful wizards had just been born somewhere. I had heard of this legend, of course, but the thing that confused me was the song that I had heard. Phoenix's are very loyal to their owners and almost never turn from them. Godric Gryffindor once owned Fawkes, at least that was the rumor, but I had never placed much trust in that rumor until that night.The only time Fawkes would ever sing the Song of the Coming of the Heir was if the true heir of Gryffindor was among us. Therefore, the only conclusion I could come too was that of the two wizards born this night one had to be Gryffindor's Heir and where his heir was so to would be the Heir of Slytherin. My suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later when I looked at the book all magical children's names are written in at birth and saw two new names written within it in shimmering silver ink. One was Tom Marvolo Riddle and the other Harry James Potter."

Dumbledore paused a moment, looking at Fawkes for a moment and then out at the clear blue sky. Ron and Hermione shifted slightly in there seats. After a few moments Dumbledore continued his tale.

"I knew the instant that I read the two names which one was the Lion and which the Snake. It was obvious to me because the Potters were direct line descendants of Gryffindor and the intermarriages between them and magically talented Muggles couldn't change that. I resolved to send the feathers to Ollivander's in the morning and to keep a close watch on both Harry and Tom. Little did I know that I would be called to aid Harry much sooner then I thought."

"I had not yet even completely fallen back into my interrupted slumber when Fawkes made a horrible piercing call and began to throw himself at the narrow windows of my room. He started to sound a high, keening wail and to make gagging noises, all the while desperately throwing himself at the glass panes of the southeast windows. I rushed to one of the windows and saw in the distance a shower of red sparks, signifying that someone was in trouble. Without understanding why I was doing so, I Apparated to the spot where the trouble was. Fawkes, who was caught in my spell, was with me. He flew toward a house that was glowing like a torch and pointed his shining beak at one of the upper story windows where curtains were fluttering in the air currents made be the magical fire that was now enveloping the house. Then, over the roar of the flames I heard it…a baby's cries of terror and pain. He was trapped in the burning building and there seemed to be no one around to save him. I stretched out a part of my mind to touch his and I learned two things: he was the long expected Heir of Gryffindor and that if I didn't do something fast the world would loose him for all time." 

Ron and Hermione were sitting, still and silent with their whole attention fixed on Dumbledore and their confused expression was beginning to smooth out. He should have known that any friend of Harry's was strong. He needn't have been concerned that they would turn on him just because he was basically Voldemort's twin. Of course there was much more to the story then the bare facts he was relating, a much darker secret that he was keeping but it had to remain a secret for a little while longer.

"I did the only thing I could think of at the time and Apparated Harry out of the burning building and into my arms. The child stopped crying and took a deep breath of fresh air then he cried out as if in pain. I heard footfalls behind me and turned hoping to see the child's parents. Instead, I saw a Dark wizard robed in dark red velvet robes with the hood up, casting the face into shadows and he was carrying a wand, which was pointed at the child and me.

'Give him to me if you value your life stranger,' he hissed at me.

'I will not!' I replied defiantly, holding the child closer to my body.

'He is the one destined to bring about the downfall of all evil. He cannot be allowed to live. You will give me the child or face my wrath!' the wizard glared balefully at the child.

I refused again and pointed my own wand at the wizard and readied the first spell that came to mind. The Dark wizard, whose name I later learned was Grindelwald, laughed and aimed his wand at the child and shouted a curse. Before I could do or say anything to block the curse that was winging its way toward us, a woman ran out in front of the spell and took the bolt with an incoherent cry. The spell hit her instead of the child and it splintered into a thousand beams of bright light. One of the beams hit Grindelwald and he was forced to flee, severely wounded but not dead. 

The child in my arms began to cry and I carried him to his dying mother's side. The woman's spirit was ready to leave and yet she still clung stubbornly to life. She appeared to be waiting for both of us as if she had a message for us.

'Take…my Harry…to safety… the future?' she asked so quietly that I had to bend down close to hear her faded voice.

'I promise, I will do all in my power to protect him.'

She smiled and reached up to touch Harry one last time before she died. Their eyes locked for a moment and then the light within her green eyes faded to darkness and Harry began to cry."

There were tears in Hermione's eyes and Ron's bottom lip was trembling.

"How awful to loss two families in one lifetime…" Hermione trailed off as she tried to wipe the tears from her face.

"I took Harry away from the scene and did as his mother requested. For his own protection, I risked a dangerous, highly complicated and very illegal Timeportal Spell, which allowed me to bring him forward through time to a year of my choosing. I chose 1980 as the target year with July 31 as the date, hoping that Grindelwald would have been defeated by that year and that Harry would then be able to grew up in safety. My plan was only partially successful, for though Grindelwald was no longer a threat there was another Dark wizard who had risen in his place~ Lord Voldemort." 

"Tom Riddle had come back to haunt you…" Ron muttered.

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully in response and sighed before continuing his story.

There were descendants of this child's family still living and I though he would be safe enough with them. Their child had been still born so I gave Harry to them and put a memory charm on the doctors and nurses to make them forget that the child had not lived. 

"The Potters…" Ron choked out.

"Yes. They never knew that the child was not theirs though they did notice that he was special. The James and Lily Potter of this decade loved Harry as much as Harry's parents in the 1920s had loved him. Ironically, James and Lily had named the child Harry James Potter in memory of James's uncle who had died as an infant in a terrible and mysterious house fire. They loved Harry with all their hearts and souls because they knew that he was to be their only child. James and Lily both knew that they would never get to see him grow up. Voldemort had been after the Potters for years because of the Prophecy written here and they knew it was a matter of time before they might be killed. They made me promise to watch over their son, to protect him and this I have done. But with every passing year the protections around him grow weaker. Voldmort has already broken through one of them. Now I fear for his safety, even within these walls where he should be safest. I fear I will not be able to protect him much longer and I now ask you to watch over him."

He looked into the eyes of the two students before him and their tear-streaked faces looked back. 

"We will," they both replied solemnly.

For several minutes they sat in silence, which was broken only by the persistence howling of the wind. 

Finally, Hermione found her voice and said: " So that must be why Voldemort wants Harry dead. He's the Heir to Gryffindor and Voldemort's twin."

"Yes, but this information must not leave this room. It must remain a secret even from Harry for the time being," Dumbledore fixed them with a grave stare and they nodded in agreement.

Several hundred miles away in a tower room of a castle on an island that now held their foes, Voldemort sat watching and overheard everything that was said. An evil grin spread across his gaunt white face and the red eyes glowed for a moment.

"So the old fool lets the Potters secret out at last. Ah, but you have forgotten the best part of the secret…Soon young Potter will learn the truth but it will be I who will tell him, not you."

The surface of the mirror grew smoky and the images in it dissolved, reforming itself into the image of Harry sleeping fitfully in the Hospital Wing.

"Keep dreaming, Potter though it will do you no good. No one will heed your warnings; they will be blind to them as they were blind to your message about my rebirth. Do not worry though. You will fall and soon all will feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath!"

A cold, evil and high laugh echoed throughout the wizard prison known to the world as Azkaban and even the Dementors shivered to hear it.


	4. Gryffindor Versus Slytherin

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter 4: Gryffindor Versus Slytherin

By: Harry's Mum Lily

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! I will try to answer a couple of your questions: Al~ the reason Dumbledore couldn't use a Time Turner as Hermione did was because there were none available to him at the time. Julie~ The woman in 1926 has an uncanny resemblance to Lily Potter and even has her green eyes. As for the father in 1926~there will be m ore on that later. I own none of the characters here just the plot. Read and enjoy. Reviews are welcome.

_"Your not…his?" whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging._

_"No," said Harry, without the faintest idea of what Crouch was talking about._

_"Dumbledore's?"_

_"That's right," said Harry._

# Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

_Chapter 28_

_ _

_But trust me…the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life._

_ _

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

# Chapter 22

Voldemort's Throne Room was a shadowy and cold room devoid of any warmth or light. There were no windows in its walls and darkness seemed to cling to the high vaulted ceiling above. Horrible, disfigured statues stared at the assembled group of Death Eaters, who stood shivering before their Lord. Voldemort sat in his dark throne on the raised dais and waited. He smiled evilly at them and his red eyes glinted steel-like in the half-light. The great thick double doors suddenly opened and two Death Eaters recently released from Azkaban's prison cells swept haughtily up the aisle made by the standing group around Voldemort's throne. A rustling echoed around the room as Death Eaters turned to look at the pair. The two approached the throne and fell to their knees before Voldemort, who rose and stood before them. They both kissed the hem of his velvet robes and backed away from him on their knees before rising to stand before him, their eyes lowered and heads bowed.

"What news, Lestranges?"

"It has been done, my Lord. The object is now ready for your instructions."

Voldemort lipless mouth grinned and he muttered the spell that would create a portkey of the distant object, telling it who to bring and to bring this person alone at a set time.

"Our spy informs us that there is no way this can fail. He will touch this object first and there will be no need of any other spell to insure this." Belladonna Lestranges said, coldly.

Voldemort laughed and looked at them both with a mad gleam in his eye.

"You have done well, Lestranges and shall be rewarded for your service to me. "

"Thank you, my Lord."

The Lastranges bowed and backed away while Voldemort turned his eyes to the waiting group before him.

"Very soon we shall be having our first guest of honor. I want you to make him feel most welcome into our midst." 

The group of Death Eaters looked expectantly up at him and a shiver seemed to run through the group. Voldemort could feel their restlessness beginning to wane.

"Yes, our time is at hand and my reign of terror will begin anew. Macnair, prepare a room for our guest. Have I not promised you better victims and soon you shall have them. "

"Yes, Master," Macnair bowed and left the room via a smaller side door that lead to the dungeons below, the face under his Death Eater mask grinning maliciously. The eyes of the Death Eaters followed him as he exited the side door. Voldemort then swept from the room leaving groveling Death Eaters to disperse as they would. He went back to his room and stared out one of the slit-like windows toward Hogwarts and his mortal enemy.

"Soon Potter. Soon you will be mine."

~

The Death Eaters milled about in the Throne Room for several minutes after the Dark Lord's departure, talking among themselves but one of their number stood apart. He was standing, alone and silent, near the door that Macnair had used watching the milling crowd before him. He glared at them from behind his mask as if daring them to say or do anything and they made sure to stay well away from him. Severus Snape made sure to keep his eyes from showing any emotion other than the loathing for the others that they normally held and to make sure nothing of his true thoughts showed. He'd returned to the Death Eaters as a spy for Dumbledore and his position within the group was not as secure as it had been in the past. He had to be very careful of what he felt or even thought while so near the Dark Lord. One wrong move…

"And he will kill me," Snape shivered involuntarily at the thought.

He watched the Death Eaters leaving by ones and twos until the room was nearly empty. He saw another Death Eater huddled in a corner who was also watching the dispersing crowd but he couldn't figure out which one it was. He had never known who all of the Order were although he had learned a fair number of names over time. He shook his head and left the room as well, his heart full of dread and worry. He felt an icy finger of fear creep up his spine and thought of Voldemort's plan. He had to warn them and quickly. He just hoped that he would be in time to save Harry Potter's life.

"If he fell to the Dark Lord…If Harry was taken again so soon…" Snape didn't want to think about the consequences this could have on Harry and on the entire wizarding world. 

He passed through the gate of the Fortress of Azkaban and Apparated to the closest point to Hogwarts hoping he would be in time and dreading what could happen if he were not.

~

The Death Eater in the corner watched Snape leave but remained where he was. He's watery eyes darted here and there watching the other Death Eaters around him as they left. Soon he was the only Death Eater still in the Throne Room. His body trembled with fear and for a brief moment his real self emerged from its hiding place within his spell-fogged mind.

"You can't allow this to happen," said the tiny voice insistently.

"How can I stop it? I'm not free to act and I'm no hero."

"You owe him your life. You know this. It is a debt that must be paid," the voice in the back of his mind said seriously.

"I've already paid my debt and I am free of it now," he thought weakly, not really believing himself free of his debt but waiting to be free of it for it would make what he must do easier.

"You think not mortally wounding him at that grave as should have been done is enough to pay the debt you owe the boy. You owe him far more then that and you know it. Their blood is on your hands still. You're only fooling yourself, Peter."

"There is nothing…what can I…What do you want of me?" he said in a panic.

"Nothing can be done now but later…"

"No! Leave me be…I can't…"

"You must! For them, for the boy but most of all for yourself."

"No…you cannot ask me to…He'll know and then…then he'll kill me," he whimpered.

"If that is to be your fate then you will die as you should have before."

An echo of something Sirius had said to him two years ago surfaced in his mind.

"_THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THEN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"_ he'd said then.

"Then your debt would be paid in full and you will be free again," the voice said. "Think of it, Peter. Your mind would be your own again."

Peter Pettigrew thought about this even as the Imperius Curse reasserted itself over his mind and actions. His eyes clouded over as the curse took control of him but he continued to think about this in some deep hidden part of his mind. Somewhere deep in his soul his spirit felt the first stirrings of bravery and hope for his redemption.

~

Harry fell into the chair next to Ron in Gryffindor Common Room and pulled some parchment and a quill from his bag. It was late but Harry knew he had to get his History of Magic essay done before tomorrow's match. Three rolls of parchment were due to Prof. Binns on Monday morning and he hadn't had time to finish it all week owing to the need to train for the match with Slytherin. Harry had never felt so tired in his life but he was reasonable sure that Gryffindor could beat Slytherin this time.

The animosity between the two rival houses had reached the highest levels that any of the professors could ever remember. The tension in the air at the Quidditch final of two years ago was nothing compared to the tension hanging like a thick fog in the corridors now. No one on either team ever went anywhere without an escort of what amounted to almost their entire House, which meant that there were a lot of people who were late to class.The Slytherins jeered at the Gryffindors who swept up and down the halls ignoring the taunts of the Slytherins. Surprisingly there had been no fighting, mostly because the two teams couldn't get near enough to each other to fight. This was a relief to the teachers who had to deal with Gryffindor and Slytherin students at the same time. Even Snape had, of late, been treading lightly in Potions, trying not to do anything to set the Gryffindors off in class while at the same time trying to placate the Slytherins by making rude comments about the Gryffindor's work every chance he got. At the moment Snape was off on some mission for Dumbledore so they'd had potions lessons free, which was fine with Harry because it meant that the Gryffindor team had gotten in an extra practice before the match.

Harry tried to keep his mind on the essay before him (_Discuss the effect of the rise of the Dark Lord Grindelwald on the wizarding world of the early 20th century.) _but his mind kept wandering to the Quidditch Pitch and the practice he'd just come in from. Things looked really good for Gryffindor and Fred had insisted that the Cup would have their name on it again. Harry really hoped that it would and yet he found that he was distracted. As he has flown around the pitch that evening he kept getting flashbacks to the Triwizard maze. Somehow he couldn't get the images of last year out of his mind. He kept telling himself that it was just pre-game nerves but he couldn't help remembering that he'd not had the same feeling at the first match of the season and that match had been against Cedric's house. Now he found himself jumping at the least rustling sound as if expecting a Death Eater to be hiding in the shadows. No there was something wrong but he couldn't put a finger on it. 

Things at the school had been tense lately and not just because of the upcoming match either. The professors seemed to be distracted and some of them seemed to be following Harry around as if keeping an eye on him.

"As if I'd do anything rash now of all times," he thought bitterly.

Harry wondered if it had anything to do with articles in the _Prophet _about Dumbledore and him. Fudge was still spouting his nonsense to the media but it appeared that more people believed it. Not sensible people according to Sirius's letters. Yet if enough could be swayed by Fudge's attitude and if they were to start believing everything that Fudge said about Harry and Dumbledore, ignoring the warnings they'd given as the prattle of lunatics then Voldemort would gain a greater hold then he would otherwise have done. Harry shuddered to think of what that would mean for the world.

To add to this Harry was starting to doubt his friend's faith in him. Ron and Hermione had been act very odd ever since he'd returned from the Hospital Wing two weeks ago. He'd seen them watching him when they thought he wasn't looking and several times he'd walked in on them having serious discussions that mysteriously stopped when he arrived. They clearly had some secret that they didn't want to share with him and that in and of itself was fine. He had his own secrets too but what bothered him was the furtive attitude of them both. They obviously thought he'd not noticed their changed attitude toward him or maybe they believed that they were acting as they always had. Whatever the reason for it, they were now treating him like the rest of the school had been all term although it was to a lesser degree then the others. He glanced at Ron out of the corner of his eye and saw Ron frowning in concentration over his Astronomy homework.

"They couldn't believe what Fudge was saying. They would never betray me, never turn from me, would they?"

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to lose them. It was a proven fact in his family that a friend could be capable of betrayal. It was because a friend of his parents had betrayed them that he was an orphan and Wormtail had betrayed him yet again only the previous term. But, Ron and Hermione would never, could never…

"You can't be sure, " a voice whispered to him.

He shook his head to clear it. No, they were his best friends. They would never turn from him because he'd known them for too long and they had shared in too many adventures together for that. He found the words on the parchment before him were beginning to blur and he rubbed his itchy eyes. He tried to shake himself awake but he was too tired. He yawned and Ron turned to him just as George's voice cut through the room.

"I think the team should go to bed now. Big match tomorrow."

The Gryffindor team grumbled but got up from whatever task they were doing and went off to their dormitories muttering to themselves. Angelina, Katie and Alicia gave Harry wide grins and he couldn't help but grin back at them. 

"We'll show them who will the Cup!" said Alicia with enthusiasm as she mounted the stairs and the rest of the team cheered.

Harry packed up his things and started to leave the room for his dormitory when, he was stopped by Fred who was blocking the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

"Try and get a good nights sleep, Harry."

"Don't worry about that, Fred. I'm still a better Seeker then Malfoy even half asleep."

Fred smirked at the statement and moved so Harry could pass. He had begun to climb the stairs when Ron's voice stopped him.

"Harry wait! You can copy my essay for Binns on Sunday if you want that is if you can read my handwriting." Ron chuckled and Harry joined in.

"Thanks Ron. I think I might have to. I've only managed to finish one roll of it. That class is so dull that even the homework puts you to sleep." Harry laughed and the laugh turned into another yawn.

"Well, goodnight and good luck tomorrow," said Ron still laughing at Harry's joke.

"Goodnight."

Harry took off his robes and put on his pajamas while stifling another yawn with his hand. No his friends would never turn from him. He got into bed and pulled the curtains around it.Sleep wasn't long in coming but before he'd fallen completely asleep a question popped into his head.

"Why were they acting like everyone else then?"

It was a question he had no answer too.

~

Someone was calling his name and he opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by greenish flames. They were all around him and his lungs were on fire. He'd breathed in too much smoke and he was about to die. He tried to escape but his body wouldn't move. He cried out and thought he could here a calm voice in his head telling him that everything would be all right soon. He saw a bright light around him and then he found himself in the arms of a man with auburn hair and a neatly trimmed beard of the same color. Harry looked into his blue eyes and knew that he'd seen this man before but he wasn't sure where. He breathed in some fresh air and cried out as the fresh air hit his burning lungs. The man whirled around and Harry saw as if through a haze another wizard standing there, who pointed a wand at Harry. There was a woman with red hair that jumped in front of the spell and who told the auburn haired wizard to protect her child. She mentioned something about the future. 

Harry moaned in his sleep and turned over. The images swirled around him and he saw bright room and heard a strange song coming from a bird that appeared to be on fire. He held a glowing feather in his hand and heard the man's comforting voice high above him. Then the room became a swirl of color and he was looking into the face of another woman who looked so much like the first one. He smiled and relaxed in this woman's arms, cooing contentedly. The memories of that other time receded and he forgot all about that other red-haired woman except in dreams. Then there was a green flash of light and he was back in his oldest nightmare…the one about the night his parents died. He could hear again their pleading voices and Voldemort's high cruel laughter as he killed them. Voldemort's face loomed over his crib and Harry began to cry. 

"Your dead, Harry Potter."

Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry with a smirk on his face.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light erupted from Voldemort's wand and this time instead of being deflected it hit him. Harry felt himself beginning to drift away from his body, and then quite suddenly he found himself sitting bolt upright in bed, looking wildly around. 

The room was dark and he could hear the snores of everyone around him. He laid back down on his pillow and stared at the canopy over his head trying to calm down enough to go back to sleep. He lay there panting for some moments before his heart stopped hammering in his chest. He knew he should write this dream down too but he found that he was too tired to. Even as he thought that, his eyelids closed and he slipped back into slumber. 

~

Harry awoke the next morning feeling strangely refreshed after the restless sleep he'd managed to have. He'd had three dreams in the night and each had been full of death and echoing laughter. There were now two more towns attacked in his dreams and although there wasn't time to note down the entire dream he had written down the names of the towns in the dreams. He did plan to write up the dreams themselves as soon as he could but right now the match awaited him. There would be time enough to write down the details after they'd won the match.

He dressed and joined the rest of the team at an early breakfast even though he normally didn't eat a thing before a match. The rest of the team looked wide-awake and alert. Soon after their arrival the rest of the Gryffindor's joined them at the table and began to eat as well, talking loudly and nonstop about the long awaited match. Harry heard none of it though because Dumbledore was waving him up to the staff table with a look of concern. Seeing the look Dumbledore wore he hurried over to the staff table and Dumbledore ushered him into the room off the Great Hall where he'd gone to receive his instructions for the first task last year. He shivered involuntarily and looked up into Dumbledore's blue eyes. Dumbledore looked older than Harry had ever seen him and there was something like pain in his eyes.

"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dumbledore looked away for a few moments and then looked back at Harry. 

"I've been told to leave…" he began but Harry cut him off.

"No! Sir, you can't. What if…" Harry's heart plummeted and the room grew chill.

"I have to leave for to remain would be risking imprisonment. I must have my freedom. I must ask you if you have anything you wish to tell me before I leave," he looked at Harry with a serious look and Harry nodded.

"I've been dreaming of attacks…attacks that haven't happened yet," he said quietly.

"_His gifts made manifest_…" Dumbledore muttered and Harry could make no sense of the statement.

"I've written them all down. They're up in my dormitory, locked in my trunk. I'll get them for you after the match."

Dumbledore seemed to shake himself out of a stupor and nodded. 

"Yes, please bring them to me and only to me. Let no one else see them."

Harry nodded and turned to go clearly thinking Dumbledore was finished with him.

"Harry…there is one other thing."

He turned in the doorway and looked back at Dumbledore. 

"Fudge wants to see you tomorrow in Professor McGonagall's office. He wants to question you under Vertiaserum about the night Voldemort was reborn and Cedric's death."

Harry's heart beat faster and his eyes widened.

"Professor…I can't let him question me under the truth potion. Sirius…" 

"I've done all I can to protect you from it but that protection ends after I leave. I'm sorry."

Harry looked pleadingly up at Dumbledore but his eyes were shadowed and his face set. Harry knew that there was nothing more he could do.

"No more sorrier then I am, sir." Harry said, in a faint voice showing no hint of emotion.

"Good luck at the match."

Harry smiled a fleeting smile and left the room leaving Dumbledore alone in the room staring after him.

~

Snape walked through the gates of Hogwarts much more tired then he usually was after dealing with his former master. 

"I'm getting too old for sparing matches with Voldemort," he thought as he rubbed his head trying to ease the headache that was coming on.

He could hear cheering from the Quidditch pitch and suddenly remembered that this was the Saturday of the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. Lee Jordan's commentary floated over the grounds to him. 

"And its Spinnet with the Quaffle heading for goal. This has been the most violent game I've ever…Spinnet drops the Quaffle but Johnson catches it and Gryffindor is still in possession. Go Angelina! She scores!"

A thunderous cheer erupted from the pitch and Lee's voice floated above it. 

"Gryffindor 80, Slytherin 70."

The match was so close and Snape wanted to watch it but he headed instead for the castle. He had to report in and then he really wanted to get some rest with the hope that Voldemort wouldn't call for him again soon. He was walking up the path that would take him to the castle thinking longingly of food and warmth when he met the Headmaster on his way to the pitch. 

"Severus, if you have a moment."

Snape stopped and looked at Dumbledore, noticing the look of sadness on his face.

"I've been ordered to leave here by the Ministry."

"What does that idiot Fudge think he's doing!" Snape said savagely.

"I need you to watch over the students for me, especially Harry. I think he's in grave danger." Dumbledore continued ignoring Snape's outburst.

"Even greater danger then you know. There is a plan afoot to capture him again. I don't know what the plan is because I am no longer in his inner circle but I do know it involves a portkey. 

The cheering for the pitch grew louder still and the commentary floated toward them.

"Slytherin in possession…but wait is that the Snitch!"

The crowd roared as some of them spotted the Snitch glittering in the sun's light near the base of one of the Gryffindor posts. Both Harry and Malfoy went into steep dives for it.

"Look at that Firebolt go…come on Harry!"

The crowd roared its approval and the ground was rushing up to meet the two Seekers who where nothing more then two blurs, one red the other green.

Snape and Dumbledore stopped for a moment outside the entrance to the stadium and Snape continued to speak. 

"All I know for sure is that it is something that Potter will touch for certain but it could be anything in his possession, anything."

Dumbledore nodded and was just entering the pitch when there was a tumultuous roar from the crowd above them. 

"Come on Harry…Yes! He's got…what the hell!"

The crowd began to scream and there was a blinding flash of green light. Dumbledore and Snape ran onto the pitch and saw two broomsticks on the ground with Malfoy rising from the ground, his nose streaming blood from having hit the Gryffindor goal post. There was no sign of Harry or the Snitch. Before Dumbledore could take this all in the screaming crowd began to point upward and as Snape felt a burning sensation on his left arm he stared up at the Dark Mark that was glowing high above the pitch.

"Voldemort has taken Harry," they both thought at the same time.


	5. Time of Testing

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Five: Time of Testing

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to JKR. Thanks to all who reviewed my last chapter. You guys are all the best. I'm not sure why this has turned out so dark…no wait it must have come from Goblet of Fire which was pretty dark. Anyway hope you like this part and reviews are most welcome.

There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike…

# Voldemort

_Chapter 17_

_Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

_ _

It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more then our abilities.

# Albus Dumbledore

_Chapter 18_

_Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

_ _

He was gone. It had taken only the briefest second for Voldemort to steal away the Light's last hope. Dumbledore looked from the place where Harry's Firebolt lay to the Dark Mark shimmering high above the place where Harry had been just a moment before. His face was pale and fear such as he had never known ran like ice water through his veins. He'd failed to protect Harry again. He stared at the Mark suddenly angry feeling as if Voldemort were somehow mocking him by its very presence at the school where the powers of the Light held sway. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest and Dumbledore could almost hear Voldemort's cold voice saying: _I have him. He is mine._

_ _

Meanwhile, Snape held his still stinging left forearm with his hand and gazed up at the Mark too. In his mind he seemed to hear a voice whispering: _To late…you are too late._ He, too, looked down at the place where Harry's broom lay, noticing Malfoy for the first time. Draco was trying to mop up his bleeding nose with his robes. He was looking at the Firebolt too. He looked around and found no sign of Harry or the Snitch. Then he looked up at the Dark Mark and his eyes grew round, his normally pale face going a shade or two paler, looking almost ghostlike in the green light cast by the Mark. Snape walked over to him, his dark cloak billowing out behind him and his face grim.

"Malfoy, what happened?"

Malfoy, his eyes still wide with shock, looked from the Dark Mark to Snape's grim face.

"The Snitch…" Malfoy began to shake and took a gulp of air, trying to steady his nerves. "It must have been a portkey. Potter and I touched it at the same time but it only took him. One minute his hand and the Snitch were there beneath my own and the next moment they had both vanished. I felt such Darkness and evil…" Draco's voice trailed off and he eyed the Dark Mark again. Then suddenly his eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted from shock.

"ALL STUDENTS, RETURN TO YOUR HOUSE COMMON ROOMS AT ONCE!" Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice echoed through the pitch and almost instantly there was a rush to exit the stadium.

"Severus, I want you to gather the staff and Hagrid together. Tell them to meet me in my office in ten minutes. Tell Hagrid to bring Snuffles with him."

"But what about Fudge and his threat?" disbelief was evident in his voice, as he stared at the Headmaster.

"This is more important than any of Fudge's threats," he looked at Snape urgently." Now maybe Fudge will listen to me."

He pointed to the Dark Mark hovering over them all like a bird of ill omen. Snape didn't argue with the Headmaster even though he was sure that this new development would make no difference to the Minister of Magic. He would ignore this sign as he had ignored the others before it. Not for the first time did Snape wish Dumbledore had taken the job when he'd been offered it. Snape conjured a stretcher for Malfoy and escorted it to the Hospital Wing giving Malfoy into Madame Pomfey's care. Then he went to alert the others as Dumbledore had requested.

Dumbledore remained in the stadium, glaring at the Dark Mark. Professor McGonagall, who looked as if she were about to cry, soon joined him.Ron and Hermione came down from the stands and joined them, both of them looked pale and fearful.

"The time of testing is upon him…" Dumbledore said quietly, still staring at the Dark Mark.

"Why him, Albus? Why now?" McGonagall's voice trembled.

Dumbledore remained silent not daring to say more out in the open.

"Come, Minerva. There is something that you and the rest of the staff must hear."

He took his eyes from the menacing green glow of the Dark Mark and noticed Ron and Hermione standing there for the first time.

"I want you two to come as well. I need to finish the story I began earlier and you should hear the rest of it so that you may better understand the situation, but first I need you two to bring me a roll of parchment that I believe you will find in Harry's trunk. Be quick…time is running out for us all but most of all for Harry."

Ron and Hermione nodded, their faces still pale and afraid. They left the pitch at a run to do as Dumbledore had asked. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed at a slower pace. McGonagall's eyes were bright with unshed tears but her face was set and determined. Dumbledore wondered what she was thinking but he knew better than to question her. She would tell him when she was ready. He only hoped that they were all ready to hear Harry's true story, the secret that he had kept hidden away all these years.

~

Ron and Hermione arrived a few minutes later at Dumbledore's office with a sheave of rolled up parchment in Hermione's hand. All the professors were there as well as Hagrid who was accompanied by a large, black dog. Everyone was seated on chairs that had been drawn up by Dumbledore's magic and when everyone was seated Dumbledore looked around at them all.

"What I'm about to tell you goes no farther then this room," he told them all, locking eyes with every person in the room.

They all looked at one another and then back to him, without saying a word. Dumbledore then told them of Gryffindor's prophecy, about how the heir of Gryffindor was none other then Harry, how Harry had actually been born into the Potter family decades earlier and how he had been brought forward through time for his own protection. Ron and Hermione had already heard all of this before and were just beginning to wonder why they had been asked to listen in on this when Dumbledore asked for the roll of parchment Hermione still held.

Hermione looked at the other professors as she rose and handed the parchment to Dumbledore. They all looked stunned, like this information was not what they had expected to hear at a time when one of their own students was presumed captured and certainly not when the student in question was Harry Potter. She wondered how they were taking it. There was no way to tell by looking at their faces what was going on in their minds. The single exception to this was of all people, Snape. He stood at the back of the room and looked only slightly surprised by this information. As she went back to sit down next to Ron she wondered what he was thinking.

"Before the match, Harry told me that he was having nightmares again, only this time he believed the nightmares were warning him of future events."

A small gasp went through the seated professors.

"Godric Gryffindor had the gift of true prophecy and the Sight," Professor Trelawny's misty voice floated through the silent room.

" Yes, he was a very gifted Seer…a gift that has already manifested in Harry as his only surviving heir."

He told them about Harry's fainting spell two weeks ago and about what the voice had said.

"If I'm not mistaken he is, though he is totally unaware of it, a very powerful Seer."

Professor Trelawny snorted and Dumbledore looked sharply at her. 

"Come now Sybil, you know very well that persistent inability sometimes masks great ability, especially with regard to this gift. Where his gift is the strongest, however, is in his dreams. He sees things that are to come and probably something of the past as well."

Everyone's eyes turned toward the roll of parchment on Dumbledore's desk wondering what dreams Harry had recorded there.

"But there is one thing more that you should all be aware of. It concerns Harry's past and the reason Voldemort wants to turn him to Darkness or, failing that, to kill him. This has to do with the unusual circumstances of his birth and a connection that exists between Harry and Voldemort."

Everyone's eyes looked into Dumbledore's and he sighed hoping that this was the right time to tell them. He only wished he'd told Harry when he had the chance because Voldemort was sure to take this information and twist it to his own ends, hoping to use it to break Harry's spirit and to prey upon Harry's one weakness: his own self doubt. He opened his mouth and as he uttered the words that could consign to hell everyone's belief and hope in Harry, he wondered if it was already to late for the world.

~

As soon as Harry's hand closed around the Snitch and he felt the tugging sensation behind his navel, he knew that somehow the Snitch had been turned into a portkey. Instinctively he tried to let go of the Snitch but it seemed to be glued to his hand. His heart was hammering in his chest as if it would seek escape from the confines of his chest. His scar began to throb in time with his heart. His scar felt as if it was on fire and the sharp stabbing pains were making his vision blur. He knew the portkey was carrying him back to Voldemort. The thought of facing Voldemort made his heart freeze in his chest. He began to shiver as cold fear swept over him.

"I'm not ready!" he wanted to scream, his body feeling numb at the thought.

Whatever else he'd been thinking was forgotten as he landed hard on a cold stone floor in the middle of a dank, dark and shadowy room. His knees were in pain but it was nothing compared to the pain his was experiencing in his scar. His vision was blurring worse then ever as wave after wave of intense pain hit him. Still despite the pain, Harry leapt to his feet and reached a hand into his robes for his wand, instantly alert. It was then that he noticed that his wand was not in his pocket as it normally was. His heart skipped a beat and he was suddenly overcome with fear. He was positive he'd put the wand in his pocket. He was always sure to carry his wand on him at all times in the magic world especially after being captured last term. He'd even taken to carrying it with him in the Muggle world lately. 

"I'm sure I had it right here."

His heart fluttered in his chest. He was alone and without the means to defend himself in a place that was controlled by his worst enemy. Had he simply forgotten to take it with him? Maybe that was it. It had become a habit for him it pick it up and take it everywhere, so much so that he was never aware of picking it up to begin with. It was therefore possible that he had simply failed to pick it up.

"I'm afraid not, Potter," a cold mocking voice said from somewhere to Harry's right.

He turned and saw to his horror that Voldemort had his wand and was twirling it in his hand. His blank red eyes were full of loathing as he looked at it. He looked at Harry with a look of amusement and mock sadness. Then he eyed the wand again and smirked in Harry's direction.

"Wormtail, come here and demonstrate why a wizard should never allow his enemy to get a hold of his wand."

Wormtail came into the small pool of light cast by a single candle his silver hand gleaming eerily in the faint light as his stretched it out. Voldemort laid Harry's wand in his hand and looked over at Harry, a malicious grin on his face. Harry suddenly realized what they were about to do.

"Accio wand!" he cried in desperation but it was too late.

Harry felt a surge of power arc from his wand into him and he fell to his knees again as Wormtail crushed it in his hand and let the fragments fall at his feet, a look of cruel joy on his face. The raw, unfocused power within his wand continued to arc into Harry's body and he willed himself not to cry out.

"Perhaps your friend, Hagrid, told you what happens when a wizard's wand is snapped by his _enemy_? No…well all the power held in the wand rebounds upon the wands owner, causing intense suffering," Voldemort's mouth wore a twisted, mirthless smile as he looked down at Harry's twitching form. "The more powerful the wand, the more painful its backlash."

A moan of pain escaped from Harry but his green eyes were full of rage. Voldemort's smile widened as he watched the final protections around Harry crumble in a shower of golden sparks that quickly faded into nothing. There remained only one set of protections around the boy now, those he'd been given at birth, and given time they would fall as the others had.Voldemort laughed and Harry, through a haze of pain, could hear others laughing with him.

"Let this be your first lesson, Potter. No one ever escapes Lord Voldemort, least of all a young upstart with no real powers such as you. I don't care who your relatives are, or who your father was or whose heir you are. I always win, Harry. Always. It would be better for you to join me of your own free will. It would make things so much easier for you. Make no mistake you _will_ join me whether now or later matters not to me."

Voldemort's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance to Harry. He could barely see anything now because of the pain in his scar, which made him feel as if his head was about to burst. The pain running through his veins made it impossible for Harry to think clearly but as soon as Voldemort asked him to join him, Harry was able to block some of the pain and struggled to his feet again.

"Never!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with barely restrained anger and defiance.

Voldemort swept over to Harry and forced Harry's chin roughly upward, forcing Harry to look into his eyes. Harry clamped his mouth shut on the scream that was trying to escape from him. The moment Voldemort touched him, he felt as if a thousand white-hot knives were twisting themselves into his body. His scar flamed and he felt a searing pain in it that completely blinded him for a moment.

"You fail to understand the situation, boy!" said Voldemort, his red eyes boring into Harry's. "You _will_ be joining me whether it is of your own free will or not."

Harry's world became Voldemort's eyes. He could see nothing else but the menacing and deadly look in them. He glared back into them with defiance in his own eyes.

"You have too much of your fathers in you, Harry Potter. All the Potters were too brave and noble for their own good. Never believed for a moment that they could fall into Darkness. They were so naïve in their belief that they would only ever produce wizards or witches who would be servants of the Light. They were wrong for Darkness dwells within you, Harry Potter, given to you by your true father.Do you think your saintly _father_ would be proud of you for standing bravely in the face of an enemy? Do you really believe he would if he knew whose son you really were? I think not."

The color drained from Harry's face for an instant and through a haze of pain that had already passed his threshold for dealing with it he saw Voldemort's cruel smile.

"Liar!" he said as he spat in Voldemort's face.

Voldemort backhanded him hard and he fell to the floor stunned. Harry felt himself beginning to black out and just before the darkness rose to claim him he heard Voldemort say:

"This will be the last chance you'll have for rest, son of Grindelwald the fallen Potter."


	6. Captive Light

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Six: Captive Light

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All previous disclaimers apply here. Thanks for all the reviews; you've all been just wonderful. Just to warn you…things get darker in this part. Hope you'll read it anyway. Reviews are welcome.

_…because I'm never going over to the Dark Side!_

_Harry Potter_

_Chapter 16_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

_He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort…_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Chapter 37_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

He was cold, intensely cold and there was frigid water dripping on him. He tried to move his arms but found that they seemed to weigh more than they should have. He tried to move out of the path of the water but he couldn't seem to move his body either. There seemed to be something preventing him from moving. His scar was on fire and the left side of his face felt swollen and bruised. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for his mind to catch up to his body. In a rush, the memories of the past few hours returned to him and he opened his eyes. He was completely surrounded by darkness so profound and devoid of any hint of light. It was impossible for him to see anything. The room around him was dank, drafty and colder than any place he'd ever been in. His arms were bound over his head in heavy chains and the same kind of chains bound his legs together, yet Harry felt as if he were suspended in midair. Harry shivered and his eyes tried in vain to pierce the darkness around him. He closed them after a few moments of trying and felt hot tears sliding from under his closed eyelids, stinging his swollen cheek. He had never felt so afraid for his own life before. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in now. He was a captive of Voldemort and would likely be tortured until he died.

"I don't want to die here, alone," Harry trembled and suddenly he understood what his parents must have felt before they were killed.

There was no sound, except his breathing and the faint rattle of the chains that held him when he moved. He was utterly alone and completely powerless. His wand and the protections it once offered him were now gone. A few more tears slipped down his cheeks as he watched in his mind's eye as Wormtail reduced his wand to splinters, the wand that had been a part of him since reentering the wizarding world. He had no idea where he was or even how long he'd been in this cell. He could hear his heart beating in the silence that surrounded him and he though he heard the sound of something slithering across the floor or was it the swish of a cloak. He wasn't sure. He tried to listen more closely but the thoughts swirling around in his head left little room for anything else. The tears continued to make tracks down his cheeks. He was alone and unprotected with nothing but his wits and luck to carry him through. There was nothing and no one who could help him this time. He was on his own. The time has come for him to choose between what was right and what was easy and he knew what his choice would be, for there was no other choice he could make. He'd promised himself that he would never go over to the Dark as Pettigrew had and he was now prepared to die rather than to join Voldemort.

Then the words of Voldemort came back to him and his mind went numb. Could he really be the son of a Dark Lord? Did the powers of Dark magic run through his blood just as surely as the Magic of the Light did?

"No! Voldemort is lying!" he thought fiercely, willing himself to believe it was so.

He couldn't be the son of a Dark Lord. He was the son of James and Lily Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the one who'd stopped the Dark Lord's rampage fourteen years ago. Voldemort's words had to be a lie and yet a doubt surfaced in his mind and with that doubt came a question.

_How were you able to survive the Killing Curse then if not by Dark magic? There is no defense against it and no one except you has ever survived it._

Harry had no idea how or even why he'd survived. Everyone had always told him that his mother's sacrifice had deflected the curse back at Voldemort but that was all anybody knew about it. No one really understood what had happened to cause the most powerful Unforgivable Curse to rebound on its caster.

_What if your mother's sacrifice had nothing to do with it? What if your Dark powers rivaled those of Voldemort even as a small child? _

_ _

"No! It's not true…it can't be…I'll not believe it!" Harry's voice echoed off the stone walls of the cell. "I won't believe you, Voldemort! Never! You hear me! Never!"

Yet even as he shouted these words to the darkness, the doubt was planted in his mind, like the seed of a poisonous plant, which if it was allowed to grow could destroy his soul and would poison his spirit.

In the darkest corner of the cell the Dark Lord smiled as he watched Harry strain against the chains that held him. Voldemort swept from the cell planning his next move, the one that would insure the ruination of the Potter family's name forever and would seal the fate of the last one. Unknown to him, in another dark corner of the cell, someone was watching and waiting for a time to strike.

~

"Harry is the son of Dark Lord Grindelwald?" McGonagall's voice trembled as she spoke into the silence that had enveloped the room.

Dumbledore looked out over the sea of white, stunned faces. Only Snape, for whom this revelation was no surprise, and Lupin, whom nothing seemed to faze, took the news calmly. The rest of the professors sat momentarily stunned by it. Some looked bewildered, other shocked and a few angry and dismayed. Ron and Hermione looked as if Dumbledore had told them someone they knew had died. Nothing could ever be the same now that he had spoken the words he had kept hidden all these years. They could never be taken back and he wondered what some of them would do with this knowledge.

"Yes, he is, but there is much more then that and I beg you to listen to me a moment."

He glanced around the room and then at Fawkes who fanned his tail feathers causing a small shower of sparks to land at Dumbledore's feet. He had no idea when the phoenix had flown to him from his perch across the room. Fawkes's eyes looked deeply into his own and he gave one low quavering mournful call. Dumbledore stroked the phoenix and then continued in a voice laced with sorrow.

" The Potters have always been numbered among the followers of Light starting from the beginning of time and through their bravery they held the line in many battles against the agents of Darkness throughout the centuries, a beacon of Light throughout many dark ages. Always they had been of Gryffindor but that all changed when twins were born to Cecil and Miriam Potter at the turn of the 20th century. The eldest son, Alexander, was a bright boy, strong in magic and will and well liked by all who knew him. The second son, Andrew, was much like his brother in the beginning but he began to harbor a secret discontent with the accolades give to his brother. This discontent grew over the years of their childhood; festering until it poisoned his very soul and thus when they arrived at Hogwarts they were sorted into different houses. Alexander became a Gryffindor and Andrew a member of Slytherin. The twins didn't let this faze them though. Alexander believed that Andrew merely wanted a chance to prove himself an equal to his brother and he never questioned the sorting because in his view Andrew remained the same person. What no one realized was that he became the very opposite of his brother and all of Alexander's noble traits were growing corrupt in Andrew.In secret, Andrew began to learn the darkest of the Dark Arts yet always careful to remain to all outward appearances the same person. He married a girl whose name was Lily and they seemed to be deeply in love. Lily never wondered about what Andrew did for a living nor did she question why he worked such late hours. Andrew was always quick to point out that he only wanted to provide for his family. Lily and Andrew Potter had one child and they called him Harry James. As soon as the child was born, protections were laid over him and it was during this ceremony that Andrew saw the potential power in his son and he grew afraid. If Harry were allowed to reach maturity he would become a powerful rival whether he chose to join the Light or the Dark.So it was in the dark of the same night Harry was born that he faced his first enemy, as his own father attempted to eliminate this potential threat to his rise to power. "

There was a gasp from Hermione and several faces paled as the words sunk in. Dumbledore paused a moment before continuing.

"The story was given out the Andrew Potter along with his wife and son perished in the fire that consumed their cottage in the early morning hours of August 1st. Alexander was devastated but he never looked any farther into the incident trusting that everything that could have been done to save them had been tried. His family mourned their loss and after a time their lives returned to normal and they went on as they always had. Alexander never knew that the nephew he thought lost was alive in another decade or that his own brother was the fearsome Dark Lord Grindelwald whose reign of terror began a decade later. Only I carried that information and I have never spoken of it until now. "

Dumbledore sighed.

"Years later, when I met Grindelwald in battle he remembered me from that night years before. As he lay dying from the wounds he received in our duel, he asked me what had become of his son, Harry, and I told him some of what I've told you.

'So he is safe then in that other time?' he asked me and when I told him that Harry was, he smiled and died as Andrew Potter.

There was a rapt silence. No one moved or made a sound. The fading light of the setting sun was casting its red glow into the swiftly darkening room.

"And the connection between Harry and Voldemort? Lupin's quiet voice broke the silence. 

Dumbledore started and Fawkes muttered angrily to himself as he resettled himself on Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Andrew's wife. Lily had a sister, Claire, who was married to one Tom Riddle.

~

There was no way for Harry to count the number of days he'd spent in the dank cell that was now his home. There seemed to be no time here and he was beginning to lose hope. His stomach rumbled with the need for food and he was so parched that he was sure his voice wouldn't work properly. Never in his whole life had been been so hungry, not even in his worse times with the Dursley's. He was dizzy with lack of food and he kept blacking out. The doubt planted by Voldemort's words grew stronger, flourishing in the eternal darkness of the cell, feeding on Harry's own fear that the words might possibly be true. It lurked always just below the surface, ready to strike at the instant an opportunity arose. Doubt and uncertainty were beginning to foster despair in his heart, which grew stronger as time passed. All three of these were taking a heavy toll on Harry's will and spirit, sapping them of the strength they once had, even as lack of food was weakening his body.

At first, he had railed against Voldemort, telling him that it was nothing but an outright lie. He'd thrashed around, his chains clanking as he cursed Voldemort's name. As doubt began to grow stronger though, he began to rail at his _parents _for leaving him alone to deal with this. Then, when it had taken complete control of his heart, when all he could think about were the words Voldemort had uttered and the fact that the Sorting Hat had almost put him in Slytherin, he began screaming for Dumbledore in a voice so full of anguish and fear that the one who watched trembled to hear it.

"Please tell me it isn't true!" he begged in a pleading voice that was not his normal voice at all.

With each passing day the poison grew more and more powerful while his will and body weakened. His shouts of defiance grew weaker and weaker until they stopped altogether. He hung limply in the chains, his will seemingly broken at last, tears of hopelessness running down his face. The darkness within the room seemed to be closing in on him, cutting him off from everything he'd once held dear. Fear flooded through him and his scar began to burn more fiercely than ever.

"Imperio!" a cold voice said and instantly Harry felt his thoughts and fears vanish, a sense of peace filled his mind.

"Repeat the words I say," a voice echoed in his blank mind. "I, Harry Potter…"

"I, Harry Potter…" he repeated in a faraway, spellbound voice and his glazed.__

_ _

_"Fight it, Harry. You must fight it for all our sakes,"_ the watcher thought as tears ran down his face.

_ _

"Son of Lord Grindelwald…"

"Son of Lord Grindelwald…"

_Must fight…_

_ _

"Do hereby swear undying loyalty and pledge my feudality…"

Harry echoed the words of the distant voice inside his mind.

"To my Lord and Master…"

"To my Lord and Master…"

_Never! I will never join with the Dark!_

_ _

"Serving him for all my days until I should fall…"

_No! Never! _

_ _

"Say the words, Potter," Voldemort said to him quietly and to his horror Harry found he was repeating the words, his voice still misty.

"Forever to serve the one Lord of the Dark… my Master, Lord Voldemort," continued the cold voice.

"Forever to serve…"

_I won't! You can't make me say it!_

_ _

"I want to hear the words, Harry. Just say them." 

"…the one Lord of…the Dark…" the words were dragged out of Harry and the harder he struggled to prevent them the more he felt like he was fighting a battle that was already lost.

"Finish the oath, Harry. Finish it and you can leave this place. I want to hear you call me Master at last, Potter." 

Tears fell from Harry's eyes and he's face reflected the struggle going on inside his mind. He felt the press of Voldemort's will as it tried to overshadow his own. He screwed up his face with effort of throwing off the curse but still the words came from his mouth.

"M…my M…M…aster…"

Voldemort smiled gloatingly at Harry, triumph gleaming in his red eyes. Harry fought harder still, knowing that if he were to complete the oath it would bind him into the service of Voldemort forever and Voldemort would make sure that he could not escape. In his mind he formed only one word, even as he felt his mouth shape another. Time was running out for him.

"Lo…Lo…No!" The cry was torn from his throat and the triumph in Voldemort's eyes was replaced with cold hatred.

Harry 's mind was his own once more and his body shuddered as every ache returned in full measure. A bright light flashed in his eyes and Harry winced away from it, finding that his eyes were now extremely sensitive to it. The light seemed to burn his eyes and his vision became blurred. All he could see clearly were Voldemort's eyes glaring at him, full of malice and hatred. His scar sent searing agony throughout his body but he glared back at Voldemort with all the defiance he could muster. Their eyes locked and once again the room around Harry disappeared.

"Your will is stronger than I thought, Potter. I must give you credit for you bravery. Usually one month in here is enough to break and turn the stongest wizard or witch. No matter. We shall have to move on to the next level."

Harry felt the icy hand of fear chill his soul and he shivered involuntarily, wondering what Voldemort had planned. He heard something slithering around his feet and saw the gleaming eyes of some creature glaring balefully at him. After a moment Harry recognized Nagini. She'd grown bigger since the last time he'd seen her and the diamond pattern on her skin was more pronounced then before. She began winding her way upward, around his leg and torso until she was at eye level with Harry. She stared at him and tried to hypnotize him with her eyes but she couldn't and he merely glared back at her. She opened her mouth and Harry could see her sharp, pointed fangs glistening with venom for a split second before she snapped her head back and struck him in the right shoulder.

Instantly, he was doubled over in pain or he would have been were it not for the chains that held him. A strangled scream was forced from his throat and Nagini pushed her fangs in deeper. Harry screamed again as every pain in his body was magnified. He flailed around, trying to escape the pain but there was nowhere he could go to escape it. The chains binding him rattled as he struggled to throw her off. She bit deeper still into his shoulder and he cried out in agony, cursing her in Parseltongue. The world around him grew dim and hazy and he knew he was being carried off by the waves of pain washing over him. The blood in his veins felt like ice. He didn't know whether he was dying or not but it didn't really matter to him. Either way he would escape from the agony he was suffering and Voldemort would never have him. He felt his body go limp in the chains and saw darkness on the edge of his vision, which caused everything to slowly fade from his sight until all he could see was Voldemort's hate filled, red eyed gaze.

_Enervate_ was the last word he could remember hearing before the torturing began. After that all he could hear were his screams and all he knew was pain.

~

Gloom seemed to hang over Hogwart since the day Harry Potter had disappeared from the Quidditch pitch. It had been well over a month since he'd been taken and a shadowy darkness lingered within the schools silent and dead corridors. Everyone was still in shock from the attack and nobody went anywhere alone for fear that they might be the next one taken. Students roamed the halls like lost souls, unable to get the image of Harry disappearing in a flash of green light and the glowing Dark Mark out of their minds. No one was sure if Harry still lived for the search parties that had been sent out by Dumbledore had been unable to find him or to even determine where he'd been taken. Everyone was afraid of what this might mean but they didn't want to believe nor would they say Harry was dead. After the others had given up the search Ron and Hermione had sent Harry's owl, Hedwig, out to see if she could locate him when everything else had failed to find a trace of him. 

Dumbledore managed to get Fudge to allow him to remain Headmaster for the time being but he refused to believe that Harry's disappearance had anything to do with Lord Voldemort although all the evidence pointed to just that. Fudge believed that Harry was evading justice and that Dumbledore was keeping him hidden somewhere. He told the _Daily Prophet_ that Harry _was a fugitive from justice and might be slightly deranged_ and that Dumbledore _was aiding and abating a wanted criminal._ There was nothing Fudge could do though because the parents of several students had made it clear that they wanted Dumbledore to remain. 

The Slytherins, who'd spent the entire term so far acting as if they owned the school, were delighted with this turn of events and didn't bother to keep there voices down as they jeered and taunted the Gryffindor's about having a criminal as a member of their house. The Gryffindors took it in stoic silence, not responding in any way to the taunts, although the Slytherins did find their common room looking as if a small tornado had passed through it and smelling of rotten eggs and stink bombs one morning. The Gryffindors knew that Fred and George had pulled off this masterpiece, although they were unsure of exactly how. This prank was the one bright spot in the gloom that seemed to pervade Gryffindor Tower and in the fear that shadowed them every waking moment. The Gryffindors and a few members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were now sporting badges that said: _The Boy Who Lived can Never Die. Harry Potter shall Rise Again _but they were beginning to fear the worst. Harry had been extremely luck in his other four encounters with Voldemort but his luck was bound to run out sometime.

There had been two attacks in the month since Harry's disappearance and aided by a list of cities drawn up from the record of Harry's dreams, Dumbledore's small group were able to avert total losses. People were still losing their lives but, thanks to the forewarning presented in Harry's dreams, there were fewer people numbered among the dead. Harry was still protecting the wizarding world from Voldemort and everyone whose life was saved was grateful to him. Nobody wanted to think about what would happen once the list of towns he'd seen attacked ended. Nor did they want to think about how this might be Harry Potter's last act of defiance against Voldemort. The wizarding world was once more living in fear that they had not felt for fourteen years and they could not bear the thought of losing the one who it was rumored was destined to save them all. 

A third attack came in the middle of the Christmas holidays and this time Fudge could not hide from what had happened, for the attack had taken place in a part of London very near the Ministry offices where a small group of witches and wizards had lived. Dumbledore and his group of Aurors, still unaided by anyone from the Ministry, had been unable to save anyone that time and the Dark Mark that hovered overhead seemed to mock their futile effort. The mark had also seemed to mock Dumbledore because in addition to the skull and snake, there was a lightening bolt etched into the skulls forehead. The wizards and witches trembled at the sight of it, knowing that Voldemort was trying to tell them something but not understanding the full meaning of his message. Dumbledore looked at it, his pale and drawn face glowing eerily in the green light of it and fear gripped his heart. This message was meant for him alone and only he fully understood it. It could only mean one of two things: either Harry had been turned to Darkness or Voldemort had slain their only chance to stop his rise to full power. Dumbledore felt tears falling from his eyes and a wail went up from the gathered crowd as they, too, realized what the message was. If either of the two things had happened then they were all in the gravest danger.

Three days after the Dark Sigil first appeared in the sky, a bedraggled snowy owl tapped on the window of Gryffindor tower. Ron, who was sitting nearby with Hermione discussing the latest attack, looked out and saw Hedwig's amber eyes staring back at him. 

"Hedwig's back!" he shouted to the common room and students stopped what they were doing to watch as Ron opened the window. Hedwig fluttered weakly through the window and to the nearby table. Everyone could see that she held a piece of bright scarlet cloth in her claws. She dropped it and hooted worriedly, looking anxiously up at the pair. Ron noticed it was a swatch of a set of Gryffindor Quidditch robes with the Lion embroidered in shimmering gold thread. Looking closer he noticed the Lion was stained with blood. 

"No…it can't be," he said in a hopeless sort of voice as Hermione burst into tears.

The whole of Gryffindor Tower fell silent and everyone looked with tear filled eyes at the bloody cloth on the table. The snapping of logs in the fireplace was the only sound in the common room but the Gryffindors paid no attention to the sounds. The warmth of the fire was lost to them as cold fear swept through them like a plague. As one, they all bowed their heads to pray, their spirits to overcome with grief to say anything. 


	7. Dark Pathways

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Seven: Dark Pathways

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to JKR. I want to thank all of you who have reviewed this so far. I know you want me to write the parts faster but these things take time. Hope you enjoy this. Reviewing is of course up to you.

_Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord…you have no idea…he has weapons you can't imagine…I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen…He Who Must Not Be Named forced me…_

_Peter Pettigrew_

_Chapter19_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

_Your mother's coming…She wants to see you…it will be all right…hold on…_

_Shade of James Potter_

_Chapter 34_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

Everyone stood in silence, staring at the scrap of scarlet cloth that Ron had dropped on the table, not wanting to believe the evidence of their own eyes, their hearts not wanting to believe what their heads were saying was true. It couldn't be true. It just wasn't possible. Their hearts refused to believe it. Harry was _not_ dead. He was alive…he must be alive and held captive somewhere; he just _had_ to be alive. He was the Boy Who Lived, the one who'd always managed to survive encounters with Voldemort, who'd always managed a daring escape. The Boy Who Lived couldn't die. It was not right, he was the hope of a magical nation… Yet, even as their hearts were holding fast to this belief with nearly unshakeable resolve, the relentless logic of their minds was painting another picture. Harry had been a captive of Voldemort since the middle of November and it was now just after the New Year. What chance was there that he'd managed to survive whatever tortures Voldemort had inflicted on him in that time? Was there really any chance that he might still be alive? No one really knew the answers to these questions and they remained unvoiced and unexamined as if saying or examining them too closely would make them come true.Dazed and with hearts full of grief, the Gryffindors wandered off to bed, their tasks going uncompleted and unfinished. The questions ran around in their heads, taunting them, keeping them awake for hours afterward. 

Ron and Hermione remained in the Common Room, alone with their grief. Hermione's shoulders shook with silent sobs and Ron's face was streaked with tears. Hedwig looked from one to the other and hooted softly as if trying to comfort them. Ron reached out and began stroking her feathers absently. Finally, Hermione's shoulders stopped shaking and she looked up at Ron, her eyes still full of unshed tears but also a hint of resolve.

"He's _not_ dead, Ron," she said quietly as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"Hermione…" Ron struggled to find the words to say.

"Harry's alive. I'll not believe he's dead until I see a body."

"Hermione, please don't make this harder then it is," Ron said, his voice breaking with emotion.

"He's alive I tell you! I feel him, here," she pointed at her heart. "If you'd take the time to listen to your own heart, you'd know he still survives."

"Please believe me, I don't want it to be true either," Ron looked at the piece of cloth and tears stung his eyes. "Harry is…d…dead, Hermione."

"He cannot die!" she glowered at Ron for daring to deny what she knew to be true. "Don't you see what Voldemort is doing…Harry lives, Ron! Until I see a body he will not be dead to me. Until we see proof that he is dead we should not believe this lie."

She waved a hand at the bloodstained cloth that sat mutely crying out its message of shattered hope and a life now lost.

"The blood…"

"Doesn't mean a thing. Voldemort uses lies… he twists the truth and plays on everyone's emotions."

Ron stared blankly at her as if she had suddenly started speaking Parseltongue. She glared at him.

"If you are too thick to figure it out, Ron… then I leave you to your grief!"

Hermione stormed out of the Common Room, leaving Ron to stare after her. Ron went up to his own dormitory and tried not to look at Harry's bed with his things still as he had left them that fateful day. He looked out the window at the stars in the heavens and the bright moon overhead, thinking about what Hermione had said. She was in denial…she had to be…there was no way he could still be alive was there? Ron shook his head, trying to clear it of the confusion his thought had become. The moon and stars blurred as his eyes filled with tears. 

"Harry…please not Harry." Ron stared up at the stars, begging them to tell him that this was not true, that his best friend was _not_ dead, that he would find a way to escape.

The stars gave no reply; they merely twinkled brightly unaware anything in the world below them was wrong. Ron turned away and was surprised to see Neville standing there. Seamus and Dean were looking at Ron from between their bed curtains. He could tell they had all been crying too. 

"He was our friend too, Ron," Neville said quietly, the other boys nodded. "We all knew this day might come."

Ron said nothing to them but a new resolve was flooding him. They must carry on the fight. Harry would want that. If Voldemort expected them to allow this to overshadow their lives he was sadly mistaken. He would learn that Harry's friends were stronger then that. He glanced at the others and they came over to the window to join him. They swore to fight on together in Harry's memory and to never give in to the Dark side. Voldemort would pay for all the lives he'd destroyed.

~

By the next morning the whole school had heard a rumor that Harry Potter was dead. The Gryffindors were grim faced and pale but they said nothing to anyone about the rumor. Ron and Hermione had taken the cloth to Dumbledore before breakfast to see what answers could be gleaned from it. All he could tell them was that the blood was Harry's, that it contained a high concentration of snake venom and that at the time Hedwig had found it Harry was alive. This made the others less grief-stricken then they had been the previous night although they were all still worried about what the bloodstains on the cloth meant and what the lose of Harry Potter would do to the morale of the magical world. 

Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean sat at the end of the table at breakfast, with Hermione . Trying to keep off the topic that was on everyone's minds, they were talking quietly about the Transfiguration assignment and whether or not any of them would manage to turn a feather duster into a falcon. Ron commented wryly that Hermione would probably be the first to do so and she smiled a faint smile at him. He smiled back and knew that the outburst of the previous night had been forgotten. He couldn't have stood it if Hermione had remained angry with him. He'd already lost one friend, maybe forever, and he really didn't want to lose another as well. Soon breakfast was over and the five of them were shouldering their school bags and on they're way out of the Great Hall. 

"Trying to ignore the signs, Weasley," Malfoy drawled from the doorway. "Harry Potter is dead, the one you knew is now no more. You shining hope was conquered by Voldemort's darkness.

"What are you going on about Malfoy?" Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously. Hermione and the others stood behind him in a half circle, glaring at Draco.

"Read this…I doubt that you'll still be supporters of Potter after you've seen it." Malfoy smirked as he threw a copy of the _Daily Prophet _at Ron.

The Slytherins watched as Ron scanned the front page. Over his shoulder, Hermione was also reading and what she read, under a picture of Harry taken last year, made her heart contract painfully.

Harry Potter~ A New Dark Wizard

The wizarding world has waited for some sign that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was still alive after his nearly two month imprisonment by He Who Must Not Be Named. We have all been fearing the worst~ that the Dark Lord had killed him~but death might have been a kinder fate then the one that we have discovered has befallen young Potter. From all information we have received at the _Prophet_, it appears that Harry Potter has shown his true nature at last by joining with the Dark Lord himself.A witness and survivor of the destruction of Godric's Springs claims to have seen him there with the Dark Lord at his side.

"I knowed it was him 'cause of the scar and all," said the survivor who wished to go unidentified. "Thought he'd come to save us all… to stop the Dark Lord, but I seen him…he pointed a wand at a defenseless wizard and…"

This is only one of a series of disturbing pieces of information that has come to light in recent months concerning Harry Potter and his loyalties. Harry Potter is the only other known Parseltongue, which is the mark of a Dark Wizard and is known to consort with giants and werewolves two of the most vicious Dark creatures known to wizardkind. According to a doctor at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injures: Harry Potter's emotional and psychological state are "unstable" and have been since last year's Triwizard Tournament and according to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, he is also wanted for questioning in the mysterious death of Triwizard Champion Cedric Diggory, who was killed during the Third Task last year. 

More disturbing then these truths, however, is some new information that has come to light regarding the Potter family and their relations. Harry Potter is a direct line descendant of none other then the most feared Dark Lord of the early twentieth century: Lord Grindelwald. Grindelwald's reign of terror during the 1930s and 40s is second only to He Who Must Not Be Named's reign of fourteen years ago. Above and beyond even this dark connection there lays a darker one, for Harry Potter, the so-called Champion of Light, is also related by blood to the Dark Lord himself. They are distant cousins.

It would seem that the wizarding world's faith has been misplaced and that we should look elsewhere for…

Hermione couldn't continue reading because the words had begun to blur on the page. She could see Ron's back stiffen with anger and felt her own anger building within her heart. Malfoy smirked insolently at them and the other Gryffindors came closer to see what was amiss.

"Potter finally did as I first suggested and made the only correct choice that will allow him a chance to live. Now the Dark Lord will be unstoppable, " he gloated at the Gryffindors. "Your bravery will avail you nothing for we will win."

Ron and the others glared at him with eyes full of hatred and fury.

"Stand aside, Malfoy!" Ron said, his voice cold and angry.

Malfoy stood still more firmly in their path. 

"You have already lost. You know this don't you. Potter is ours and now nothing stands in the way of the Dark Lord's rise. When we conquer this school…"

"We will fight you! You will not win an easy victory!" Ron shouted, his eyes full of fury.

"And you will have given your lives for nothing. You don't have your precious saint Potter now. He will not come and save you this time."

Ron's anger had reached the breaking point but, just as he was reaching for his wand to put a spell on Malfoy, he heard another voice behind him and saw a blue flash of wand light fly passed him. Malfoy fell to the floor unconscious. Ron turned to see Hermione, her wand still upraised and her face flushed with anger, glaring down at Malfoy's unconscious body with loathing. The Slytherins got up from their table and advanced on Hermione but they paused when they saw the wall of Gryffindors waiting for them. There was a shower of purple sparks in the air and a voice cut through the din.

"The very next person in this room to make a sound will be expelled from this school!" said Dumbledore in a commanding voice. 

Dumbledore and Professors McGonagall and Snape were quietly dispersing the crowd as they moved toward where Ron and the others were standing. When the crowd around them parted, Ron could see that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were already leaving the Great Hall via other doors. McGonagall and Snape were glaring at the students from their respective houses.

"Classes for today have been cancelled. You will return to you house Common Rooms immediately and remain there." Dumbledore told the students who were milling around Ron, Hermione, Draco and the others.

The Gryffindors swept wordlessly from the Great Hall while the Slytherins jeered at them for having a Dark Lord among their members. Snape glared at them again and they, too, reluctantly left the room, taking Malfoy with them. Ron and Hermione stayed in the Hall. Ron was still clutching the _Daily Prophet _in his hand and Hermione eyes were still filled with fury. They looked at the professors before them and waited, wondering what their punishment would be. Finally, after several minutes of silence, Professor Snape spoke.

"There will be no detention given to you two and no points will be taken from Gryffindor. Malfoy deliberately provoked you. Malfoy will receive a detention and 50 points will be taken from Slytherin."

Ron and Hermione stood in shocked silence as the word sank in. They were unable to believe what they had just heard Snape say. They looked back at McGonagall and Dumbledore to make sure that what they thought they heard was true. They both nodded in agreement with Snape's decision.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, you may go back to Gryffindor Tower for now. I will speak to you both later," he looked intently at them for a moment before turning to Professors McGonagall and Snape.

Ron and Hermione left the room hardly daring to believe their luck but as they did so, Hemione looked back once and saw the look on Professor Snape's face. It was a haunted and sorrowful look that she saw and she wondered what caused it.

~

Snape sat by the fire in the Staff Room three weeks later, looking out the only window in the room but not really seeing what was outside it. His mind was focused on the whirling thoughts and emotions going through his mind. He felt like a complete failure. He'd been unable to prevent Harry's capture, had been unable to gather any useful information for Dumbledore because he'd lost the Dark Lord's trust and he had failed to find out where Harry was being held or what his condition was, although he could still hear Harry's echoing screams of pain. They were the screams of someone who was enduring overwhelming pain, pain so intense that few survived it intact, if they survived the experience at all. Slowly, Harry's spirit was being worn away yet as long as he endured it there was still a hope, a chance to save him.

"How is he able to endure something that would have killed an adult wizard weeks ago?" Snape thought as his eyes traveled from the window to the flickering firelight.

He'd not actually seen Harry since the night of his capture when he'd answered the Dark Lord's summons. Thankfully, Voldemort had accepted his excuse for his lateness, as it was a well-known fact that a wizard could not Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. He'd been a witness to the destruction of Harry's wand and the energy backlash into him that had rendered Harry unconscious. He'd learned that Harry was son of Dark Lord Grindelwald but that changed nothing of the mission he was to perform now that Harry was held captive and, as he'd watched two Death Eaters drag Harry off, Snape realized that he must try to save him if he could.

It seemed such an easy thing to accomplish but as days had dragged into weeks and weeks into months things began to look hopeless. He had no clue were to begin searching for Harry and he was growing desperate. He had to do this, had to find Harry, it was a debt he must pay. He had failed to protect Potters when he'd been given the chance. His information had led them to use the Charm and through Peter's betrayal it had sealed their fates. He'd wanted to tell them that Peter was a Death Eater but he'd thought they would not believe him. He had almost lost Harry the night the Potters were betrayed and he had almost lost Harry again in his first year. If his potions hadn't worked…the wizarding world may have lost their one hope of victory over Voldemort. 

He stared into the fire, watching the flickering flames until he was almost asleep. He would have gain the trust of someone within the Death Eater ranks, someone closer to the inner circle that he was no longer a part of, but who? He shook his head and got up from his place by the fire. He paused at the window and looked out at the grounds below and at the sky above, which was a brilliant blue. He tried to concentrate on something else but the Dark Mark on his arm began to burn and he knew there would be another meeting tonight. He shivered, wondering what was in store. 

~

Harry's world had become a nightmare full of pain; cruel laughter and Voldemort's hate filled eyes. Every time he'd sought escape from the torture, he was always revived and made to suffer still more unending pain. He'd had very little rest over the last few months. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the pain his body was in and the thought that he must continue to resist Voldemort. He would _not_ be turned and there was no power on the earth that could force him to join Voldemort. His will was strong, even if his physical body was not but, ever so slowly, the months of torture and captivity were exacting a terrible toll on his body and will. He was being weakened and so were the final protections around him. 

Voldemort swept into his cell and looked closely at the protections. They still glowed a strange red-gold but their light was fading a little at a time. Given enough time they would crumble as the others had. Harry hung limply in the chains, blood streaking his face and staining his robes a dark red. The Dark Lord moved to take a closer look at his handiwork. Harry's body cringed away from him. Voldemort laughed softly at this and put a finger under Harry's chin so that Harry's eyes, which were glazed over with pain, were looking right into his own. Harry whimpered and tried to move away again but Voldemort held him in place. 

Pain arced through Harry's body at Voldemort's touch and his body arched in response, as tongues of flame seemed to burn every inch of him. He opened his mouth to scream but he no longer had a voice with which to scream. Voldemort's red eyes seemed to encompass everything as they held Harry's own with their blank gaze. They were telling him that he was going to die, here, alone unless he made the choice to join Voldemort. His death would not be painless nor would it be soon. Harry felt his body and soul tremble. He hurt…God he hurt more then he had ever before in his life and he didn't want to die, not here, not like this… His bright green eyes shone with unshed tears but also firm resolve. He would not surrender to Voldemort. He couldn't betray everyone…couldn't let his parents' sacrifice have been in vain. He had to remain strong in spirit if not in body…but it was so hard. He hurt so much and he'd lost all hope. The path of the Light was not an easy one; the right choice was not always the one that led immediately to happily ever after. 

Harry's body shivered as more pain arced through it: magnified by the venom that ran through his blood. His body was fevered and yet his blood felt like ice. 

"Will you join me, Potter and let this all end now or will you continue to defy me?" Voldemort's cold voice whispered.

Harry looked into those evil eyes and into his green eyed gaze Harry put all the defiance he could muster.

"N…e…v…e…r." Harry's voice was weak but the word carried as much strength behind it as if he had shouted it.

Voldemort picked up a nearby whip and struck Harry across the chest with it. Harry's body became aflame with agony but still he glared defiantly at Voldemort. 

"Crucio!"

The pain of the curse was more then he had ever felt before and was nearly more than he could endure yet still he would not give into the pain. He would not betray the Light. His spirit held firm, even as his body and mind stood on the edge of destruction. He shouted his defiance in his ragged, ruined voice even though his voice was no more than a whisper on the wind. Harry's eyes and face betrayed nothing of the fear within. He glared at Voldemort with a steadfast and accepting gaze. Harry held fast to the memory of his parents and of their bravery as they stood for the cause they had believed in. They had been willing to die for the Light and he could do nothing less. He would not turn for to do so would betray their memory and the memories of all who had fallen at Voldemort's hand. Finally, he was released from the curse and, though a haze of pain, he could see Voldmort's face was full of wrath.

"You will call me master, Harry. You cannot hold out against me forever. If you do not then you will die in the most painful way I can devise. Now you will be punished for your continued defiance. Bring him!"

Harry could feel someone releasing the chains that held him bound. He felt himself fall hard onto the cold stone floor. Two masked Death Eaters grabbed him roughly by the arms and he felt a wave of pain and dizziness go through him. He tried to stay conscious but the pain he was still in was too much and he fell into a semi-conscious state, his head lolling to one side. The Death Eaters laughed as they dragged Harry's limp body passed cells full of captured wizards and witches who all moaned as he was dragged passed. Their Light was about to be extinguished and they were helpless to prevent it. Their hope was about to die and all the world stood silent on the brink of change.

No one marked the rat that had followed the Death Eaters from the cell nor did they notice that this particular rat had a silver paw. Peter Pettigrew followed the Death Eaters who were taking Harry away, not fully understanding why he was doing so. All he knew was that for the first time in years he was again fully himself, free from Voldemort. The time had come for him to atone for the things he had done. Now the past would meet the future and maybe, just maybe, Harry would be saved.


	8. Where Dwell the Brave at Heart

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Eight: Where Dwell the Brave at Heart

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR and her publishers; I'm just borrowing them for a time. Thanks to all who continue to review my story. Your reviews are appreciated, they really are. I'm on holiday now and my cousins have let me use their computer to post this part. Hope you enjoy it. Reviews are good.

_You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers._

# Albus Dumbledore 

_Chapter 36 _

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

_ _

And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet…he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself even if no defense was possible…

# Chapter 34

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

Peter Pettigrew followed the Death Eaters long enough to find out where they were taking Harry and then went down another corridor still in his animagus form. He crawled under the door of the very last room in the passage and change back into his human form. His heart was racing and his eyes darted around the cell like room taking in nothing. Voldemort was taking Harry to the Chamber of Slytherin's Darkness. Pettigrew felt his heart plummet for Voldemort only sent people there who needed "special treatment" in order to bend them to his will.There were not many that had gone there that Peter could think of and most of them had not survived the encounter with whatever horror dwelled within that chamber. He shivered at the thought of Harry facing it alone, wandless and as weak as he was at that moment.

_The time comes for you to make a choice between what is right and what is easy._

_ _

He looked around the room and saw what "rewards" his service to the Dark Lord had gotten him. The room was bare and there was a straw mattress on the floor in the corner. He shivered slightly in the cold air coming from the gray, stone walls. He had nothing and had lost everything because he'd once believed the promises of the Dark Lord. He wished he had not been so naïve, so easily turned. He banged his fists on the wall but held the scream of anger he longed to vent inside his heart. 

_You know what must be done…when the time is right. Until then you must find a way to help him._

He knew what he must do but could he do it was the question he was asking himself. The Dark Mark burned on his left arm and he knew he might only have but a moment to act. His eyes darted around the room and, for a moment, he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye but when he looked whatever it was had vanished. 

_Please…do it for the boy and for youself…be the rock that you failed to be in the past. It's your chance to redeem yourself._

_ _

He closed his eyes and relived the event that he'd tried for fourteen years to forget, the event that had forever altered the future. The night he had betrayed his friends and the cause they has stood for: the year 1981 and the place Godric's Hollow. He'd seen James and Lily fall defending Harry's life. They had died in defense of the Light that he had turned from and that he had extinguished within his own soul. He had betrayed those who had trusted him with their lives and the life of their young son. They'd been brave and had died but he was a coward who now had to live with the knowledge of what he had done. He'd tried not to think about it, to hide it in a deep dark corner of his mind. It had been so easy when he'd been a rat to forget the betrayals he'd been a part of. He had told Sirius the truth when he'd been discovered: he hadn't wanted it to happen and that he'd been forced to betray them.There had still been a small part of his true self that had remained awake even when he was betraying everyone. That had been Voldemort's way: he always made sure to leave enough of the bespelled wizard's mind intact so that they saw the evil they were doing but were unable to act to stop it. That was the part of him that had run, when Voldemort's curse was lifted, and it was that part that still grieved.

He had hidden as a rat for all those years to escape the memories of what he'd done, memories that he hadn't wanted to deal with. He'd locked the memories of those events in a dark corner of his mind, never examining them until the first time he'd seen Harry after the laters forced exile from the magical realm was ended. Then all the memories had come back full force and everything he'd lost was made clear again. He had nothing left but the memories of how things had been and a wish that things could have ended differently. It was all lost to him now, all of it, and it could never return. The past can't be changed with a wish and the past had haunted him all these years. His betrayal…the betrayal of those he'd once counted friends still rested heavily within his heart

James and Lily died for a cause they had believed in but what had he done. He'd let fear take control of him and had fled from the responsibilities that were a part of life. He's made the easy choice and allied himself with the very darkness his friends were fighting against. While others around him had held their ground, he'd broken ranks and ran. The others had not submitted to Voldemort's will and had surrendered nothing to him but their lives. He'd surrendered all to the Dark Lord and though it had kept him alive at a time when all of his friends were falling around him, he now felt that his life was cursed. He'd lost his honour, his hopes, and his very soul when he'd betrayed his friends and worst of all he'd betrayed the Potters not once but twice. 

Peter thought about that night last year with a shudder, remembering with vivid clarity everything that had happened and everything he'd felt then. He had been unable to watch as Voldemort had toyed with Harry and as they had dueled. It was too much like an echo from the past…he could still see James and Voldemort locked in their final duel (for Harry looked so much like James). No, he would not allow himself to betray Harry or his parents a third time. The past would not be repeated. This time he would _not _run but would stand firm and face his fears.

"I will find a way to save him. I must find the way."

Somewhere in the past he'd lost all hope, honour and bravery but, at long last, he was finding them again. As he Disapparated to the Throne Room, he knew that he would find a way though there seemed to be no way. He didn't know what he was going to do; he only knew that the time had come for him to act.

~

Harry tried to open his eyes but he found that he didn't seem to have the strength to. He felt as if he was floating and the air around him was pleasantly warm and smelled of spring. He could hear a soft voice singing to him as if from a great distance:

_Hush-lay down your troubled mind_

_The day has vanished and left us behind_

_And the wind- whispering soft lullabies_

_Will sooth-so close your weary eyes_

_ _

_Let your arms enfold us_

_Through the dark of night_

_Will your angels hold us_

_Till we see the light_

_ _

He felt a soft hand brush his cheek and his eyes snapped open. He found he was lying on a hillside that was covered with small white and blue flowers. The sky overhead was bright blue and cloudless. He sat up and looked around him. In the distance he could make out the silver ribbon of a river and a distant castle. Birds wheeled overhead calling out to one another and pausing in their flights to bow at him and twitter their welcomes to the Heir of Gryffindor. 

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him and, turning around, he saw his parents walking toward him. They had their arms around each other and they were smiling down at him. Harry looked closer and saw that while they were smiling they were also crying. He reached out a hand toward them but they remained a few feet out of reach. Faintly he could hear them speaking.

"Hold on…Just hold on a little longer. There is help close at hand. Please don't give up hoping…"

"I'm so tired…it hurts too much. I can't hold on much longer." Harry's voice quivered and a single tear ran down his cheek."I am alone."

"Never alone…You are never alone…"

"Harry, please just hold on for us all," cried out another pair of distant voices.

Harry wheeled around and saw a woman who looked very much like his mother. She had red hair and green eyes too. A dark shadow seemed to hover near her and for the briefest moment Harry thought he saw a smiling face within it. The woman and shadow seemed familiar to him. He'd seen them somewhere before. She was also crying but she smiled a trembling smile at him.

"You can hold on, Harry. The blood of the Potters and of Gryffindor flow through your veins," the shadow whispered to him.

Harry looked from one couple to the other and somehow understood that he was seeing both sets of his parents. He reached out his hands and felt two pairs of hands touch his briefly. Tears blurred his vision for a moment as he felt the love and strength flow back into him from them.

"All we ask is that you try," said James, his eyes looking bright.

"Remember that the strength of your fathers lives on in you. The darkness cannot touch you nor can it lay claim to your soul unless you willingly give in to it. You are the stronger," the shadow that was Lord Grindelwald said to him. "You are _not_ of the Dark and you can never be anything but what you are now."

Harry drew a great shuddering breath and closed his eyes a moment, trying to determine how much more he could stand. Finally, after several minutes of silence, he opened them again and looked at the two couples.

"Please let help arrive soon," he shivered. "I can't hold out much longer."

"Help is there waiting and it will come from a most unlikely source…Please try not to be too hard on…"

The hill, warm air and his parents began to whirl around him. Faintly he could hear their voices still telling him to hold on and he swore at that moment that he would do all in his power to hold on. He felt a shock of pain and then he awoke from his dream. Someone had flung him into a cold, dark room. His arms and legs were no longer bound but they were of no use to him. He could scarcely move for the pain that was moving through him. He couldn't move and wasn't even sure if his legs would work properly anymore. One appeared to be broken, judging by the grinding noise he could hear and the stabbing pain that came from it whenever he moved it. He looked around the room but could see nothing at all.

The cold seeped into his very bones, making them ache more and his blood seemed to be made of ice though he knew he was burning up with fever. He began to shiver, as a cold wind seemed to blow across his shoulder. He lay on the floor were the Death Eaters had flung him and waited for something to happen. His eyes darted around in the darkness as he tried in vain to pierce it. He could hear no sound beyond the drip of water somewhere close by. He tried to hold onto the images from his dream but found that he could not. His mind seemed to be drifting off and he wondered briefly how long he'd been here. He felt himself beginning to slip away again, letting the darkness embrace him once more.

When he next awoke, he was shivering uncontrollably and was colder then he could ever remember being before. He tried to sit up but found that he could not even manage that small task for his body was too weak. It didn't matter. There was nothing that Voldemort could do now that would weaken his resolve. He would try to hold on, he would try to survive this encounter long enough for help to arrive. He would not give up nor give in…

_Noble and brave sentiments, Potter, but are you willing to die for them and for the Light._

_ _

Harry didn't trust himself to speak so he said nothing. Suddenly, the darkness was surrounding him, attacking him from all sides. He stood at its center and tried desperately fighting it with his whole being. He was _not_ evil, _not _a part of Voldemort's darkness. He would _not_ become a part of it. Never…

_Oh, but you already have or have you forgotten this…_

_ _

An image was burned into his mind and he saw himself standing within the ruins of was once a town aiming a wand at a defenseless wizard.

"I did not do that…it was not me!"

_You will find it hard to prove to the Ministry. There have been reliable witnesses that have placed you there and in other places too._

_ _

Multiple images flashed across his mind, all of the towns he'd seen in his dreams. He saw himself performing acts that made his skin crawl. Surely he hadn't done those things. It had to be a lie. 

_But you have the Mark…the Dark Sigil. Feel it. _

_ _

Harry felt a burning sensation on his left forearm. He looked down at it and found, to his horror, that it was glowing with a faint light and at the light's center was the Dark Mark like the one he'd seen in his dreams. The skull with a snake protruding from its mouth and the skull had a lightening bolt scar. The Dark Sigil disfigured his arm and burned with a white-hot pain that seemed to reach into his very soul. He cried out, trying to deny it was true. The Mark continued to burn and he felt himself grow faint with the pain of it. Darkness began to cloud his vision and he felt himself drifting away.

_Come to me, son of Grindelwald. I call you to complete your oath._

_ _

"No!" Harry said with more strength then he felt.

_You will submit. There is nothing else you can do. You've lost. You are mine at last.._

_ _

"Never!"

_Feel the darkness within you…you are evil…Dark magic runs through you veins…you can feel it._

_ _

The darkness closed in around him and he fought harder still. He would not submit no matter what happened, not even if his own life was forfeit. 

_Crucio!_

_ _

The darkness came alive with his screams as more pain then he had ever felt ripped through him. He could not think or move and merely lay twitching on the floor. Around him the darkness rippled with cruel laughter and multiple shouts of _crucio. _He knew nothing but the pain and heard nothing but pleading screams and sobs. 

"PLEASE…MAKE IT STOP!"

Harry writhed around on the floor caught up in the spell and in the images that were forced into his mind. He saw himself committing acts far worse then those that Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for in the past.

_Do you submit?_

_ _

_"_NEVER!'

_If you submit the pain will end. _

_ _

"No…I…Will… Not!"

_Yield now. Join your power with mine._

_ _

Harry felt hot tears sting his eyes. He couldn't hold out for much longer and he knew it. He felt something inside give way and the pain doubled then tripled until he could no longer bare it. He felt himself slipping away on a wave of pain and darkness blurred what was left of his vision.

_Surrender now, Potter and live…if you do not then you will die._

_ _

"Pain…cannot hold… Never…submit…forgive me…"

Harry felt the room spin crazily and then all was darkness.

~

Snape stood waiting in the Throne Room wondering what the Dark Lord's summons was about. His eyes did not betray the feeling of dread that had descended on his heart. He was afraid for Harry and what may have happened. He dreaded reporting to Dumbledore that their one chance to defeat Voldemort forever had fallen.

"Don't think that…Harry is strong like all the Potters are. He will survive because he must."

Snape shivered as the chill air of the room found its way through the thick wool of his cloak. The Death Eaters around him were whispering to one another, waiting expectantly for the arrival of the Dark Lord and his guards but inexplicably his throne remained empty. Snape began to pace the room, watching the milling crowd, trying to discern what the summons was about by watching their actions. Their eyes gave away nothing, no clues or any hint of emotion whatsoever, until he looked into a short, watery-eyed Death Eaters eyes. Snape had seen this one before in close attendance on Voldemort himself. This was a Death Eater right in the Dark Lord's inner circle by the insignia on his robes and it was a rank that gave this Death Eater no pleasure by the look in his eyes.

The Death Eater stood apart from the others, near to Voldemort's throne, but his eyes held such an anguished look in them that Snape suspected that this was one of the few who had broken through the Imperius Curse. His eyes darted around the room, moving from the crowd, to the door, to the throne and back again. He shivered slightly and the anguished look was replaced with one of resolve mixed with fear. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"But what?" Snape thought as he eyed the crowd, all of whom were beginning to grow restless and impatient.

Then suddenly ten Death Eaters from the inner circle Apparated before Voldemort's throne where they took up positions as his personal guard behind the throne. Voldemort swept into the room in a swirl of dark robes. He sat in his throne and looked at the crowded room before him and laughed a mirthless laugh, as dark and cold as his heart.

"Welcome my fellow Death Eaters. I have called you here because I have glorious news. We are at last gathered to welcome into our ranks one whose name was once a blessing to all witches and wizards of the Light and who will shortly be turned to the Darkness forever."

The Death Eaters all looked at one another while Snape's heart grew cold.

"No…he could not have…Harry would never willingly…" Snape's heart was racing.

"Long have I waited to bend this one to my will and the task is nearly completed."

The crowd stirred and a final person, wearing tattered, bloodstained robes that might have been scarlet at one time, appeared on the dais at the foot of the Dark Lord's throne. The figure was hunched over and was twitching as if still in the throws of a powerful curse. Voldemort came forward and raised the limp figure's left arm for all to see. Snape could make out the shape of the Dark Mark disfigured by a lightening bolt across its forehead.

"The Dark Sigil…symbol of one who carries the blood of Grindelwald…just as the prophecies of Slytherin has fortold. My soul twin who carries the same Mark as I had returned to my side."

Voldemort bared his left arm and Harry and those Death Eaters close to him could see the Dark Sigil identical to Harry's glowing there. Harry's face paled at the news that he was related to Voldemort but of his shock he showed no other sign.

The face behind Snape's mask also paled and he moved closer on seeing that the hunched figure was Harry. He looked awful. His pale face was bloodstained, bruised and dirty but his eyes where burning a bright green and seemed to be rimmed in fire. He spirit was not broken, not yet anyway. 

"Harry Potter will at last take his place among us as has been foretold."

Harry's eyes burned with hatred and defiance.

"All that remains is the oath…You _will _say the words now, Potter or suffer the consequences."

"Never!" Harry spat, still looking at Voldemort with hatred. 

"I think you will…for if you do not then everything you hold dear will die and you will be forced to watch as the world you knew is destroyed."

Harry remained silent, glaring at Voldemort with rage.

"You will repeat the oath now!" Voldemort placed one of his long, white fingers on the Mark on Harry's arm and his eyes unfocused as he screamed in agony. He slumped to the floor. Snape tried to move closer but could not get close enough to prevent Voldemort and the others from casting an Imperius Curse on Harry. Harry's green eyes became instantly glassy and the oath began to be spoken by his broken voice.

~

The oath of service to the Dark Lord was spilling out of his mouth and every time he tried to block it he was stopped by the wall the curse created around his mind. He could feel Voldemort's presence in his mind and he tried to fight its takeover but the pain he was still in made it hard for him to concentrate. The harder he struggled, the more pain was forced through his body but Voldemort. He'd nearly reached the end of the oath when he heard again the voices from his dreams, telling him to hold on and to continue to fight. He forced himself to fight harder to reclaim his mind. He had to do it before he could speak the last word of the oath or it would be too late. The room swam in and out of focus but he fought on with grim determination. He would not be turned, the oath he was being forced to take was false. He was Dumbledore's _not _Voldemort's. He would remain true to the Light and to his parents' memories no matter the cost.

Suddenly, his mind was his own again and he looked up at Voldemort with defiance burning brightly in his eyes. He closed his mouth on the final word of the oath and refused to utter it. Voldemort glared down at him and pointed his wand at Harry. The light coming from the wand blinded Harry. He was lifted from the dais and slammed to the foot of it hard. He lay there stunned and unable to see or move.

"You have defied me for the last time, Potter!" Now you will die and everyone in the world will know who holds true power here. Everyone will now see that the Heir of Slytherin has defeated the last Heir of Gryffindor."

For the first time Snape noticed that the Death Eaters on the dais were casting a very powerful projection spell, which was beaming this meeting into every wizarding home for miles around. He looked again at Voldemort and saw the sickly green glow that was coming from his wand. He was going to kill Harry in full view of everyone using the very curse that he had used to eliminate every one of the Potters. The last Potter would be dead and the long unbroken line of Gryffindor would end. Snape's heart felt as if someone had plunged it into ice water. 

Harry lay unmoving on the floor at the foot of the dais, and stared up at Voldemort with no fear in his eyes only a calm acceptance of his fate. Snape couldn't watch. He didn't want the memory of Harry's death to haunt him as the death of his parents did. This time there was nothing he could do to prevent death from claiming the last Potter. Snape closed his eyes and felt tears slide from under his closed eyelids as he heard Voldemort's cold voice call out the curse that had taken the lives of so many. These would be the last words Harry Potter would hear and Voldemort's cold voice would be the last voice. The Light would die and Voldemort's return to power would be complete. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort said with a devious smile and a look of triumph.

Harry stared into Voldemort's eyes, which were glistening in the glow of his wand. He stared at the beam of green light that he had no hope of stopping and didn't flinch as it streaked closer to him. His eyes betrayed nothing of the fear inside as he stared death in the face. He would die bravely and the others would take courage, fighting on in his name until Voldemort was defeated. It was the last service he would do for the Light and he would be remembered for his brave stand.

The green light burned through Snape's eyelids and he cringed as he heard the sound of death winging its way toward Harry.

"No!" he heard a voice cry. 

Snape opened his eyes and saw the sad-eyed Death Eater run in front of the beam coming from Voldemort's wand and then there was a blinding flash of bright white light. When he could see again both Harry and the unnamed Death Eater were gone. Just then lightening split the sky above Azkaban Fortress and struck somewhere nearby. Several hundred miles away, a phoenix's mourning call broke the silence stillness of the night. A single feather fell from his tail, glowing brightly as it fell and all light was suddenly extinguished within Gryffindor Tower as the lamp, which burned when the Heir of Gryffindor was alive went out.


	9. In the Darkness, Light

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Nine: In the Darkness Light

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All usual disclaimers apply to this story. I'm not growing rich from it so don't sue me please. Thanks to all for the lovely reviews and sorry this part seemed to take forever but I had a problem with a part of it. All reviews welcome. Cheers.

_We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided..._

# Albus Dumbledore

_Chapter 37_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

## I think we must expect great things from you Mr Potter…

# Mr Ollivander

_Chapter 5_

_Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone_

_ _

"What do you mean the Gryffindor lamp has gone out? That hasn't happened since…" Dumbledore stared at McGonagall's shocked, pale face and sighed.

"Minerva, I'm well aware that the Lamp has not gone out since we almost lost Harry in…"

"Albus, the Lamp will only shine as long as a child of Gryffindor's line remains alive. Harry is…was the very last direct line descendant of Gryffindor. If the Lamp has gone out then…" her eyes began to fill with tears.

"There must be some explanation for it…a reason it's light has gone out…"

Dumbledore fixed his eyes on the room's other occupant. Severus Snape sat in a chair looking pale and shaken. He was staring at his hands as if they were the most important things in the world and his eyes were bright as though there were tears in them that wanted to be freed.

"Severus, can you tell us what happened?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his face calm and serene as ever but his eyes holding a thousand emotions.

Snape looked up from his clasped hands and saw two pairs of eyes staring desperately at into his own. They wanted to know what had happened at Azkaban but how could he begin to explain to them something that he, himself, could not even begin to understand. Something bigger then all of them was at work here, something that they no longer had any control over.He shivered and looked out one of the room's windows, trying to still his wildly fluttering heart, before telling them all he'd seen. He closed his eyes and saw Harry, beaten but not beat, staring defiantly at Voldemort from his position at the foot of the Dark Lord's throne. He saw again Harry's steadfast courage, which seemed to shine like a bright star in the dark and endless night that gathered around Voldemort and his throne.He would see the look those eyes had held for the rest of his life. He told them of the conversation between the Harry and Voldemort and how Harry had not given in, even though he had to know that Voldemort would kill him for his refusal. He opened his eyes again as he told them of the Dark Sigil that had disfigured Harry's arm and how Voldemort carried the same mark on his own. Finally, in a voice laced with emotion, he told them of Voldemort's casting of the killing curse and Harry's subsequent disappearance with one of Voldemort's higher-ranking Death Eaters just before the curse struck him. 

"Where they went is anyone's guess. Voldemort was furious…" Snape's voice trailed off and he shivered, remembering the dark menace that smoldered in Voldemort's glowing red eyes. 

"Your positive the Curse did not hit Harry?" Minerva's bright eyes pierced Snape's dark ones, seeking reassurance that only he could give in that moment.

"No, it was blocked somehow. I'm not sure how to explain it… he had no protections left and yet the curse seemed to bounce off something…"

"The Final Protections…the Last Defense…" Dumbledore muttered his eyes sparkling as if he knew something the other two didn't.

Snape gave McGonagall a puzzled look and she shrugged, looking at Dumbledore curiously. He appeared not to notice their exchange.

"The Death Eater…do you know which one he was?" Dumbledore's eyes held a strange gleam in them.

"No, I don't. I only know that he had watery-eyes and he was defiantly nervous about something. He looked like he'd just broken through the Imperius Curse Voldemort sometimes uses."

Dumbledore nodded distractedly, twirling a phoenix feather in his hand. The feather glowed with a strange golden light and Snape found himself looking at it, for it reminded him of something he'd failed to mention.

"I also heard from a reliable source that Voldemort snapped Harry's wand. Its power is lost forever."

Dumbledore was jerked out of his reverie by Snape's statement and McGonagall's eyes widened as they both understood the significance of this. Things were growing graver by the moment.

"That explains this," he said holding up the bright scarlet and golden feather he'd been twirling. "Fawkes dropped it this morning."

It shimmered with a bright golden radiance, almost as if it were on fire. Each quill of the feather seemed to be moving as if there was a strong breeze in the air, although there was none. It seemed to drive back all the shadows in the room and the darkness that had settled like a cloak around the three within the room. The glowing light of the feather intensified for the briefest of moments and they could feel warmth coming from it. Very softly, almost below the range of their hearing, they could hear a soft humming coming from it, almost like a song. It was an unearthly, haunting and beautiful melody, which seemed to surround them where they stood.

"Headmaster, _what_ in the name of Hogwarts founders is going on here?" said Snape with a note of both joy and panic in his voice.

"I wish I knew, Severus. I must get this feather to Ollivander's at once. The light that was lost must be restored and this darkness must but driven back." Dumbledore apparated instantly, leaving Professors McGonagall and Snape staring at the place he'd just been, looks of confusion on their faces

~

Snape left Dumbledore's office in a state of confusion so profound that he hardly noticed the students giving him odd looks as he passed through them in the halls. He said nothing to a pair of students who were kissing in the hallway outside the Charms Classroom. He also ignored Peeves, who was singing rude songs from the inside of one of the suits of armour. The students stared after him as he made his silent way back to the dungeons. Snape passed through the crowded Entrance Hall without even a word to the large crowd of Gryffindors, who were milling about discussing the latest rumors and only paused in his headlong dash once to take 20 points from Slytherin because Malfoy was taunting the Gryffindors. Everyone in the Hall stared after him in silent surprise.

"Something's wrong…" said Ron as he watched Snape disappear down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Did you see the look on his face. Oh, Ron…you don't think that Harry…" Hermione's eyes grew wide with fear.

"He would never turn, Hermione. Harry would never willing join with Voldemort. I don't care what the _Prophet _says."

"Your right," Hermione said, but all through Transfiguration she couldn't help but wonder. 

The day passed in a blur and neither Ron nor Hermione could get Snape's strange behavior and grief stricken look out of their minds. Later that night they sat in the Gryffindor Common Room staring into the fire, trying without success to finish their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Even Hermione, who was usually able to become lost in any assignment no matter what the situation, was unable to concentrate on it. She kept staring into the fire, watching its flickering flames dance in the grate. More than once Ron looked toward the window waiting for Hedwig, whom they had sent to Sirius, to return with a letter. The other Gryffindors left the pair alone, knowing they needed some time to sort things out.

The Gryffindors felt as if they were living inside a nightmare and most of them were having difficulty handling the situation. Not only was one of their own being held by Voldemort but also the _Daily Prophet_ had reported several sighting of Harry in the company of other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. The reporters were having a field day with this news. Even when there were no attacks to report, they still ran stories that were nothing better then the drabble of someone's overactive imagination. Harry Potter was being painted as _"the gravest threat to the wizarding community to date" _and what was perhaps even worse than this was the fact that some of the very people who had hailed Harry as a hero not long before were now being swayed by these stories. They were forgetting every good thing Harry had done in the past, claiming Harry had used these events to mask his more evil intents. There was nothing that any of them could do to stop these attacks on Harry's honour, nothing that is except to show their support of him even though he was not there to see it and to make it clear that they did _not_ believe that he was capable of such deeds.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team sat nearby quietly discussion the coming match against Ravenclaw. The season had not been called off, as many feared it would be after Harry's disappearance from the pitch. George Weasley had insisted that the matches be allowed to continue because Harry would want them to. All the Gryffindors now trained harder then ever before for they meant to win the Quidditch Cup in Harry's name. Even without his physical presence on the team and even though the likelihood of him ever returning grew slimmer and slimmer as the months went by, they still felt he was with them in spirit and this made them play harder then they had before. Neville was doing his best and was not a bad Seeker, though he claimed that Harry could fly circles around him, which was in all likelihood true. They all felt more then ready play, for at least that would take their minds off of the situation that seemed to be growing darker by the moment if only for a little while.

Ron was still trying to write an essay on the ways a Shield Charm might be employed as a defense against powerful Dark Curses when a tapping at the window startled him. The room grew completely silent as Ron opened the window and Hedwig came inside, a roll of parchment tied to her leg. She landed on the table occupied by the team and Ron took the letter from her leg. She fluttered to rest on a perch nearby that the Gryffindors had made for her when she'd started spending most of her time in Gryffindor Tower rather than the Owlery. The rest of the students in the room looked at Ron expectantly. He and Hermione had told them of Sirius and his innocence a few months ago so that they would be able to talk freely in the Common Room about the situation without worrying about being overheard. Ron unrolled the letter and scanned it before reading it aloud.

Ron and Hermione, 

We've had no news from any quarter in days. The rumor here is that Harry has turned Dark. I would never believe it of any son of James and Lily. There is nothing evil in Harry and I don't care what the paper says about him. It is impossible for him to be turned. I cannot explain it all to you in a letter but let's just say that it is part of reason he was able to throw off the Imperius Curse last term and leave it at that. As for rescue…there must be a way, though we are still unsure of where to find him at present. Rest assured we will do all in our power to find and rescue him. I will not rest until it this is done for it is my duty. Have no fear we will find a way to rescue him. Of this I am certain. The council of the Phoenix has been called and we will have Harry back with us soon. I must believe this. Harry will be freed from whatever prison Voldemort holds him in. Please don't give up on him, he needs you support now more then ever. I will be in contact again soon but I must keep on the move so that the Ministry doesn't catch me. Have faith in Harry, though it seems that many have lost their faith in him.

Sirius

"So Snuffles has learned nothing new then," said Fred quietly.

"It appears not." Ron looked across the room at Hermione who seemed unable to stop staring into the fire. 

Suddenly, Professor MaGongall entered the Common Room and motioned for both Ron and Hermione to follow her.

"The Headmaster wishes to speak to you," she said, her eyes bright.

Ron felt his heart drop in his chest and Hermione paled slightly as they followed Professor McGonagall to Dumbledore's office. About halfway there McGonagall paused and turned to Hermione. 

"Miss Granger, could I ask you to go and get Professor Snape for me. Dumbledore want to see him as well."

Hermione nodded but said nothing. She headed back the way they had come and took the first staircase she could find to Snape's office and wondering what the meeting was about and hoping, despite the sorrowful look everyone was wearing, that it was good news.

~

Snape's office was dark and cold but it was somewhere he could go to sort out the jumble of thoughts in his mind. Everything he'd seen, heard and done in the last several weeks was running around in no particular order through his mind. Every thought he'd had, every action he'd witnessed, every discussion he'd been a part of were all swirling around in his head and he could make no sense of any of it. Superimposed over all of this were Harry's green eyes glowing with defiance and some other emotion that Snape could put no name to. Those eyes would haunt him for the rest of his days. Snape had seen that look before but the eyes had belonged to another. Harry's mother, Lily, had worn the same look when he'd brought the news that Voldemort was after them and their son. James' golden eyes had flashed with fury as they had glared back into his sullen stare but it was the look Lily's held that had stopped the rest of the message he was going to pass. She'd looked up from Harry, startled for a moment like a doe that has heard a predator nearby, but her fear had quickly disappeared to be replaced with defiance and a look of calm resignation. She had looked back down at the child in her arms before looking back at him.

"So be it!" she said with a quiet fury. "He will not have Harry. He will be protected I swear it. If Voldemort dares to touch him he will meet his downfall."

Snape shook his head trying to clear it of past memories but the memory did not fade and it was as painful now as it had been then..

_Did you know what would be required of you, Lily? Did you know that you and the one you loved would die defending Harry? _Snape stared blankly at the dungeon's cold, dark wall, lost in memory. Lily never knew how many lives she'd touched in her brief life by just being kind-hearted and brave. She couldn't have known how much her death would affect those who'd known her or that more people then Harry would carry a deep sorrow within their hearts at her loss. She never knew that she'd even touched the cold heart of Severus Snape, giving him the strength to break away from Voldemort. Every action he'd taken against Voldemort, every piece of information he passed on to Dumbledore, every mission he'd undertaken in the name of the Light had been done for her, for she had given him something that no one else in his life had been able to; she'd brought love and kindness into his otherwise dark and cold world. He would do anything for her and her death had been like a physical blow to him. It was as if the sun had been extinguished, casting an impenetrable darkness over the world and over his life. Lily's death had nearly killed him and for months after the funeral he'd refused to leave his bed. Voldemort had killed the only good thing in his life. He's taken the only woman that Snape had ever loved and although she was not destined to be his, in his heart he'd still loved her. He still loved her years after her death.

So engrossed was he in his memories that he didn't notice the passage of time nor did he notice Hermione, who was standing still and silent in the doorway. Quietly as she could manage, Hermione left, not wanting to interrupt Snape's reverie, even though Dumbledore had sent for him. There were some things that were better left alone and by the look of grief on Snape's face, he was trying to work through something that she had no business interrupting.

"Don't blame yourself…none of this is you fault," she thought as she waited for several minutes before knocking on his half open door, trying to give him some time to settle before bothering him.

~

_Nothing ever happens by chance. Everything happens for a reason._James had told him that once but Peter could make no sense of why this had happened or of even where they were. When consciousness had returned to him he'd found himself in a forest of tall and ancient trees set so close together that there was barely room to move between them. It was dark and a cold breeze was blowing, heralding an incoming storm. The air was heavy with rain; the sharp, wet scent of which carried to Peter's nose.Harry was laying a few paces from where he had landed. He was curled up in a fetal position, shivering in the cold wind that had begun to grow stronger and he appeared to be unconscious. Peter got carefully to his feet and lit his wand so that he could see more clearly. He walked slowly to the spot where Harry lay in a heap and looked down at him. Harry didn't move and it was only the rising and falling of his chest that allowed Peter to know that he was alive at all. 

Peter looked around him and wondered briefly where they were. The forest seemed somehow familiar though it was more wild and untamed then any he'd been in of late. When he'd cast the Apparation Spell back in Azkaban he'd given it no specific location, hoping that by doing so he would prevent pursuit by Death Eaters. He'd simply asked it to send them as far from Voldemort as it could, praying that it would be far enough away for them to return to Hogwarts in safety. The forest was silent and they seemed to be the only two living things in it. Peter shivered and looked up at the patch of sky that he could see above the trees. It was dark gray with clouds and as he looked up he saw a flash of lightening.

"I need to find some shelter…"

Peter looked frantically around but found nothing. There were no lights nearby that might indicate dwellings and no sound reach his ears. He could have easily found shelter for himself by turning into a rat but that would have meant leaving Harry unprotected and undefended. Peter would not allow himself to do that now or ever again. Harry was too important, more important to the cause of the Light than any other single witch or wizard for he carried the one spell within his heart that could vanquish Voldemort forever. He was also very vulnerable to magical attack now with most of his protections shattered by the Dark Lord's last spell. Harry was in the gravest danger and Peter was his only protection. Peter knew there was nothing he could do to stop the Dark Lord from killing them both if he should find them yet, despite his fear, he remained standing there, his sharp features reflecting his indecision. Finally, in desperation, he managed to conjure a small tent and to get Harry's limp body into it just before the storm broke overhead. 

Peter stared glumly at the storm breaking over them and at the rain that was coming down in sheets outside the tent flap.The thunder rumbled loudly overhead and he could see flashes of lightening through the canvas of the tent. He shivered in the chill air and conjured a small fire within the tent. Harry remained curled up with his back to Pettigrew. He was so still and silent that Peter thought for a moment that Harry had died but he was still breathing shallowly and raggedly. Pettigrew could see the dried blood that caked Harry's back and the dark bruises under the blood. His back was a mass of welts that were infected and seeping a clear liquid. Harry moaned in his sleep and rolled over, the Dark Sigil becoming visible under his tattered sleeve burning black. Peter shivered at the sight of it, knowing what it signified and feeling his own Dark Mark burn. Yet he did not for a moment believe that one whose spirit and heart were so pure could ever…

"It means nothing, Harry. You are _not_ like my former master," he spit the last two words out with loathing. "There can't be any evil in your soul."

Harry began to shiver and Peter took off his cloak, covering him with the yards of warm wool. He looked into Harry's face, realizing how much Harry looked like James. Harry's face looked paler for the black cloak that was covering him and the scar that had marked him from childhood stood out darkly in his otherwise pale face. He was still shivering despite the warmth of both cloak and fire and yet his face, Peter noticed, was covered with sweat. Peter lay a hand on Harry's forehead and found that he was burning up with fever and that his scar was burned even hotter then his forehead. Quickly, Pettigrew flipped back the cloak to reveal Harry's neck and upper torso. Harry's body shook more violently in the cooler air. After a moment's examination, Peter found the cause of the fever. On Harry's right arm, right above the scar from the cut he'd received in Voldemort's rebirthing ceremony, were two puncture wounds that were an angry red color surrounded with purple bruises.

"Nagini," he thought as fear raced through him.

Her venom was one of the most poisonous on earth and only by mixing it with a small amount of unicorn or dragon's blood could it be stopped from killing a man. It might already be too late for Harry.

"If he was bitten more than once…" panic seized Peter as he tried to discern whether or not Harry had received more than one bite. 

It was impossible to determine whether Nagini had used the original wounds to poison him farther. He was relieved, however, to find no more bites anywhere on Harry yet, even as he began to relax, he saw Harry begin to breath more shallowly and saw his face grew paler still.

"No…" he whispered.

The Boy Who Lived couldn't die. The storm outside was but a pale reflection of the one raging within Peter's own heart as he realized that the Dark Lord had tricked him once more. For, while he'd believed he was saving Harry's life, he was in fact condemning him to a painful death. The betrayer had engaged in his final act of betrayal. Peter hung his head and tears formed in his eyes as he realized that Voldemort had allowed them to escape to a place too far away for aid to come to save Harry's life. The decision he'd made but a short time before was now haunting him for it had gone horribly wrong. 

"No…please no!" he whispered in a ragged voice, the tears in his eyes falling and blurring his vision so that he could no longer see Harry.

All Peter could hear was Harry's ragged breathing and the moans of pain that escaped from his ragged voice. He failed to notice the man who stood in the "doorway" of the tent watching the two of them with wide, staring eyes. He failed to see the scarlet robed wizard raise his long, slender wand and cast a spell of deepest sleep upon him. The wizard, who was also wearing a scarlet cloak, allowed a woman in blue to enter it before him. The pair looked down at Harry and Peter. Harry was tossing and turning in the throws of a fever dream and the woman knelt beside him, examining his many wounds with a sorrowful expression.

"He burns with fever and is very close to death, my Lord. We must get him…" The woman paused a moment, a stunned look on her face as she took in the lightening scar on his forehead and the Dark Sigil on his arm.

"What is it?" the man asked calmly.

"It's…the Chosen One…the last Heir to your Lordship," She looked up at the Wizard with confusion in her steel gray eyes. "How did the Final Heir end up here of all places?"

"I do not understand, he should not be here…" the dark haired wizard looked thoughtfully at the Dark Sigil and the lightening mark on Harry's forehead, confusion in his amber eyes.

"Something is _very _wrong…the balance has now shifted to the Dark," remarked the woman, her eyes full of fear.

"I know. That is why I felt compelled to come here and now I think I understand why. We must return to Hogwarts at once, my Lady Rowena. Maybe his companion can shed some light on the subject."

"Aye, my Lord," Lady Rowena of Ravenclaw rose and levitated Pettigrew in the air with a flick of her wand. She took his hand and apparated without a backward glance, leaving the scarlet clad wizard to take care of Harry himself.

Sir Godric of Gryffindor picked Harry up as if he weighed nothing at all. He looked down at the boy who was his future heir and wondered what enemy had the power to send a wizard so well protected outside of his own time.

" Well, young Harry Potter, Lady Rowena is right about one thing. Something has gone horribly amiss."

He looked down at Harry and the lightening scar again pondering the meaning of his appearance in a time far removed from his own. 


	10. Upon a Foreign Shore

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Ten: Upon a Foreign Shore

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story but the plot. Hope you enjoy it and thanks again for the reviews. All reviews are welcome and I do appreciate all of them.

Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.

Albus Dumbledore

Chapter 37

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody!…Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time…loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake.

Hermione

Chapter 21

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Vague shapes and distant voices surrounded him. All he could remember was a flash of brilliant white light and a familiar voice that had shouted No before he was plunged into darkness. He heard a woman's voice full of firm resolve and a touch of fear talking somewhere high above him. He opened his eyes and found his mum staring down at him, fear reflected in her eyes. He wished there was some way he could take the fear from her eyes. He reached for her and managed to grasp one of her fingers, the one with the silver ring on it. He held onto it tightly, not wanting to let it go. She looked down at him and smiled a trembling smile but still the fear remained in her eyes. He looked around, trying to see who or what else might be in the room but the people standing around him blocked his view. He heard voices rumbling around him but could make no sense of what he was hearing. He tried once more to see any details of the room but he could make out nothing. There seemed to be some portraits on the walls but there was little else he could see beyond a bookshelf and a desk. He began to wiggle and fuss until he heard a voice say:

"Let him wander a bit, Lily. Nothing can harm him here."

His mother released him and he took his first good look around. He found he was in a huge circular room, which he recognized instantly as Dumbledore's Office. Everything was as he remembered it from his visits there as a student. He sat looking around the room, marveling how strange it was to be looking at the familiar room from the perspective of a child who was just over a year old. Everything looked enormous from his position on the floor, even the people. He looked up at them and noticed for the first time who was in the room with his mother. His mother sat in a chair, flanked by his father and another man with laughing eyes, which Harry recognized as a younger Sirius Black. Standing nearby were two other men that Harry recognized as well; a younger Snape, who was wearing a scowl and midnight black robes and Pettigrew, whose eyes were darting around the room as if seeking escape from it, his eyes held a strange blank look that no one seemed to notice.

For a fleeting instant, Harry wanted to go over to Pettigrew and demand to know why he'd sacrificed the Potters to Voldemort's Dark throne, why he'd betrayed them all but even as he thought to say something, to warn them of the traitor in their midst, he knew he couldn't. It was against wizarding law to change time and there was nothing he could do to change the past anyway. He settled with turning his back on everyone and exploring the room from this new perspective, instead, although turning his back on Peter was the very last thing he felt like doing. For the briefest instant, Peter had turned his eyes on Harry and had given him such a look of mingled fear and loathing that Harry was surprised by it. Why would Peter appear to hate and fear him so?

"But…he will come for you and the child…can't you see."

"So be it. If he dares to touch my child he will meet his downfall. I will see to it…"

Harry was no longer concentrating on the voices above him for something bright red and gold had caught his attention. It shimmered just out of his reach on a perch high above him. Suddenly the red and gold something fluttered from the perch trailing shimmering sparks. It landed near him and he saw it was a bird.

"Fawkes!" he cried out, although the word sounded a bit garbled to him.

The phoenix surveyed him with his bright-eyed gaze and Harry watched him with his head tilted to one side. Fawkes blinked his eyes and bobbed his head, then tilted it to the side too. Harry giggled and the two of them stared at one another for a moment that seemed suspended in time, then Fawkes walked closer to him, nearly sitting in his lap, and stared for a moment into his eyes. Harry felt a tugging sensation in his mind and thought he could hear the sound of phoenix song echo faintly in the back of his mind. Then Fawkes sounded a single bell like note that hung in the air a moment and bowed at him. Stretching his wings, he flew into the air, leaving behind a small, downy feather on the floor in front of Harry that cast a small circle of golden light on the floor.

Harry stared at the glowing feather a moment and then picked it up. Bright scarlet and gold sparks shot into the air from it and he fell over backward in surprise, laughing as the sparks circled around him, trying to swat them with his hands. He lay on his back laughing and watching the feather, which was now floating above him. It swirled and dipped and soon it had surrounded him in a cage of light filled with the haunting melody of phoenix song. He felt his eyes begin to close and he felt as if he were drifting, falling endlessly downward.

~

Everything around him was in darkness and a cold wind seemed to be howling all around him. He was completely alone, there was no one left who could comfort him. They were all gone; he could feel it in his heart although he didn't understand how this could be. He only knew that he'd lost them forever. They would never return to him except maybe in dreams. He had seen them die right before his eyes; he'd heard their last moments of life right before it was stolen from them by the shouted words Avada Kedavra. They had died protecting him, shielding him, saving his life by giving their own in its place. Terrible guilt and sorrow twisted like a serpent within him. He saw Voldemort's mad red eyes looking down on him, heard his evil laughter as he slew, saw again the green light and felt pain in his head as the curse meant to slay him struck him a glancing blow instead, splintering into shards of red-gold light that struck Voldemort. He cried out for all he's lost and all he stood to lose in the future. There was blood on his face from the lightening bolt-shaped cut on his forehead. He wanted to forget, needed to forget what had happened but he knew now that he would never be able to. Then he felt a wave of wariness cover him like a cloak and the memory was washed gently away to return to him only in his dreams. 

~

Someone nearby was singing softly to him. It was like a call meant to lead him back from the darkness to which he had fled. From death back to life…

Hear my silent prayer

Heed my quiet call

When the dark and blue surround you

Step into my sigh

Look inside the light

You will know that I have found you

He tried to follow the singer's lilting voice but he couldn't tell from what direction it was coming for it seemed to come for all around him. In the distance he could just make out two couples standing at the end of a long, light filled tunnel. He could hear them calling to him too, but couldn't understand what they were saying. The singing voice seemed now to be coming from behind him while the other voices were ahead of him. Something frightening waited for him if he retreated to the singer, what he wasn't sure of, but he knew he was trying to escape whatever or whoever it was. He felt the need to continue forward, to answer the voices that were ahead of him. He began to walk toward the couples through the tunnel of light. Their voices grew stronger with each step he took, while the singer's voice grew fainter and weaker. He paused at the end of the tunnel and found his way blocked by a misty gray fog that shielded the couples from his gaze, though he could still hear their voices. The singer's voice was now very faint and, like a distant echo, he thought he heard someone say: He's gone.

He turned his back on the voices at the tunnel's end, feeling suddenly as if he'd left something important behind but he couldn't remember what. There was something he'd forgotten, something of great importance. He stood at the gray mist, irresolute, listening to the two sets of voices that were calling to him through the curtain of mist. He wanted to continue through the mist, he wanted the peace they were speaking of, he wanted to rest at last. He was so tired and felt so alone, yet…

"Something has been left unfinished and if I stay others will die," he thought but he still couldn't remember why he thought that.

Then he heard the voices beyond the mist calling to him but now their message had changed.

"Go back, Harry…You must survive…" they said and the singing voice was growing stronger again. It pulled him through the light tunnel and he felt the world right itself. He felt a searing and burning pain almost like his whole body was on fire. He moaned or maybe he screamed, he wasn't surewhich, and something cold was poured down his throat.

"Awake…awake…" he heard a soft lilting voice say but he was too weak. His body was in too much pain and he found himself slipping into the darkness once more, his system unable to handle the shock of the ordeal he'd been made to suffer.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" he thought as the blackness closed in around him and he fell into true slumber at last.

~

"Will he survive?" Sir Godric asked as he studied Harry's paper white face.

"If his fever breaks and if he survives the next two nights then I would say yes," a tired and red-eyed Lady Rowena looked up at Sir Godric and he couldn't fail to note the seriousness in her eyes. "Whether he will awake is another matter."

"We believe we counteracted the venom in time but his body's been through an ordeal and isn't as strong as it might have been," Helga of Hufflepuff said quietly as she tried to administer another dose of the potion to Harry who kept trying to avoid it.

Sir Godric turned to the tall, blue-eyed healer and nodded. 

"We have Salazar to thank for that, " he said, looking at the corner where the tall potions master stood wrapped in his bright green cloak.

Lord Salazar of Slytherin nodded to the women, his dark eyes flashing, gave Sir Godric a brief bow and swept silently from the room, leaving behind the musty smell of the herbs he worked with and a heavy tension in the air. The rift between Slytherin and them had been growing wider this last year, but he'd agreed to help for reasons known only to himself. The current rumor among the students was that Slytherin was building a secret chamber within Hogwart's grounds but none of the three of them really believed the rumor.

Gryffindor looked down at his future heir and concern flooded his face. Harry was covered in as many blankets as could be found and they'd conjured magic fires around his bed to help warm him in the drafty castle but he was still shivering as if with intense cold. Under the blankets, his body was covered with bandages, which covered his wounds. Helga had paled when she saw the extent of them and the way they'd been allowed to fester. She could often cure a wound with a wave of the wand but these were new wounds over old ones and it would take Harry's body months to recover from them.

"What kind of monster this Dark Wizard must be to do such a thing to a mere boy!"

"He is one who seeks to destroy this child and all he holds dear, " Rowena's eyes grew as sharp as flint and she glared up at Gryffindor.

Sir Godric nodded: "And one powerful enough to send him back in time a thousand years to prevent him from giving his aid in the future battle."

Sir Godric's face grew thoughtful as he watched Harry's chest slowly rise and fall. His breathing was becoming more regular and deeper now and some color was slowly returning to his pale face. His scar no longer stood out as much in his face. Whoever had done this to Harry was very powerful and had left his mark upon the boy. He'd been touched more deeply then even he knew by the events in his past. These events had touched his heart and soul leaving scars not unlike the one on his forehead. If he couldn't learn from the tragedies of his past… if he let them consume him. The aura of Gryffindor was unmistakable in Harry but it was shot through with a darker aura that was nearly as strong. At some point Harry and his enemy had traded bits of themselves and that could lead to the downfall of both. Gryffindor continued to study Harry noting that the magical aura around him seemed to be stronger then any he'd every seen before. Harry Potter had to be the most powerful wizard that Godric had ever seen.

Rowena and Helga sat nearby; rolling more bandages for the never-ending supply that was needed in the daily running of a school on the very edge of civilization. Someone was always getting hurt. Just yesterday, one of Slytherin's students had gotten into a fight with one of Gryffindor's over titles and bloodlines, which had ended with one stabbing the other in the arm with a dagger. Helga could heal almost any wound but the more damage was done the longer the Spell of Repair took to work. As they worked, the two women watched Sir Godric, waiting to see what his orders were. Harry was currently resting in the knight's bed in the circular chamber he'd claimed as his own.

"He shall remain here with me for now. It would be unwise to move him now, " said after a moment's thought.

"That is wise, sir," said Helga as she looked upon Harry again. "In his condition, he shouldn't be moved under any circumstances.

"And he will be protected from prying eyes and Transportation Spells here as well. The protections on this room are the strongest we have right now. If this Dark Wizard should try something…" Rowena trailed off, looking knowingly at Sir Godric.

"Then he will be prevented. Harry must be given time for his body to recover before we send him back to his own time. We cannot allow him to be captured again," Godric looked over at his young phoenix, Fawkes, who sounded a soft quivering note into the air.

Harry relaxed and smiled as he heard the familiar sound. The strained look on his face seemed to fade and even more color came back into it. Fawkes drew closer still, fluttering weakly to Harry's bedside, curious about the new occupant of Sir Godric's bed. Fawkes was still only a fledging phoenix but Gryffindor was happy to see that he appeared to be gaining strength. Harry moved his right arm under the blankets until it was out form under them. A red and gold light played about his fingertips and Fawkes landed clumsily beside him, a shower of red and gold sparks falling from his feathers, landing all around Harry and covering him in a shimmering blanket of light. Fawkes cocked his head and stared into Harry's face. Suddenly, Harry moaned softly and his eyelids began to flutter. He grimaces and hissed in pain. Then he mumbled something the others couldn't understand, his head turning from side to side on the pillow.

"Warn Dumbledore…Voldemort… attack… Hogsmeade next…" He said in a slightly stronger voice.

"He is awakening…" Helga said in surprise.

Slowly his eyes opened and the three founders saw that his eyes were a startling and brilliant shade of green and that they had a look of intense confusion in them, followed by pain, sorrow, fear and something else that Sir Godric recognized right away: a sense of duty. Harry's eyes swept the room as if seeking something or someone familiar but his face fell, as he found nothing. He looked vaguely at Gryffindor and wet his cracked lips with his tongue before speaking into the intense silence around him.

"Where… am…I?"

~

Minerva McGonagall sat with Ron in Dumbledore's office, waiting impatiently for Professor Snape and Hermione to arrive. Dumbledore was at his desk, pouring over two large leather bound books and a smaller volume bound in red leather. She couldn't see what books they were but by the look in Dumbledore's eyes the books held something significant.

"Where are they?" McGonagall thought tensely.

Ron sat in front of Dumbledore's desk and he was ashen faced, as if he expected to be told that Harry was dead. McGonagall didn't know any more than Ron did but she expected to hear exactly what Ron feared to. Dumbledore's face gave away nothing of what this meeting was about. He'd only said to gather Snape, Ron and Hermione together and meet him in his office in a quarter hour.

"What could be taking them so long?" she thought, glaring at the door, willing it to open. Fawkes remained motionless and asleep with his head under one red gold wing. No one was coming up the stairs. Dumbledore continued to study the books before him, his brow furrowed in concentration. Ron sat in white-faced silence; clearly afraid to say anything for fear what he was thinking was true. McGonagall noticed a very subdued Hedwig perched on the chair the headmaster sat in. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and her head hung down. She looked as if she had lost her best friend.

"Don't even think it. Stay calm. Nothing is wrong."

Minerva's eyes strayed to a rolled bit of parchment on the headmaster's desk and for some reason her heart began to race. Her thoughts were spinning madly in her head and she couldn't seem to grasp a single one for any length of time. They slide through her mind and over it all she could hear Voldemort's high, cold laughter ringing in her ears, mocking her as it had on the night he'd taken everything from her. She had hesitated in that long ago battle and the moment she had her friends were blasted with a curse, leaving her one of the few survivors of the Battle of Shadow Pass. The echo of that laughter haunted her dreams and even now had the power to make icy fear grip her heart, sending shivers up her spine. Her thought continued to swirl and then one horrible thought surfaced from the maelstrom: Lost…Harry is lost to us now. We have all failed him in his hour of need…

The door to the office burst open and Snape swept into the room followed by a wide-eyed and shocked looking Hermione. McGonagall started out of her dark thoughts and Dumbledore looked up from his perusal of the books on his desk. Everyone's eyes were upon him now and he held each of their gazes with his own for a moment.

"I have just received news from Sirius," he tapped the roll of parchment in front of him. "No one has been able to locate Harry not even by the Tracking Charm that was placed upon him.

The room remained strangely silent as everyone stared at Dumbledore, waiting for him to continue.

"Sirius even sent Hedwig out in the hopes that she might be able to find him when others could not but she returned to Sirius with his letter unread."

McGonagall felt her heart plummet in her chest; Snape's dark eyes glinted strangely in the candlelight, Ron and Hermione's faces paled and their eyes widened.

"He's truly gone then?" Ron's voice, carrying a hopeless tone, sounded unnatural in the silence that blanketed the room. Dumbledore looked up from the small leather bound book.

"He's been sent back in time but he is very much alive, at least according to this book."

The room exploded with voices as the others shouted over each other to be heard. Finally, Hermione's voice overwhelmed the others.

"How is that possible? No one is allowed…" she began.

"Nonetheless the fact remains, Miss Granger, that Harry has been sent back in time, back to several years after the founding of Hogwarts."

"Why there? What is going on, Albus?" McGonagall asked her voice trembling with emotion.

"I wish I knew, Minerva, " he said, worry and fear lacing his voice. "Something must have happened to cause a spell to…"

"A Time Distortion Spell!" Snape shouted.

All eyes turned to the potions master and he grimaced, shaking his head at them.

"That must have been what the blinding flash of white light was. I thought the Death Eater was just Apparating away with Harry. One or the other of them must have given the spell vague not specific instructions to prevent pursuit or else Voldemort directed the spell for his own ends, probably to eliminate Harry from this war."

"Return to Azkaban, Severus, and try to find out exactly what happened. We need all the information we can get if we are to help reverse this spell. If we don't, Harry will remain alive but he will be trapped in the year 1095 forever. I need not remind you of what we will lose if he is trapped there."

Snape nodded and left the room with more confidence in his step then he felt in his heart. The Dark Mark had begun to burn on his arm again and he struggled with himself, trying not to touch or rub it, for touching it always made the pain in to worse. He would find the information Dumbledore sought, even if he died in the attempt. Every time he returned to the Dark Lord could be his last. He knew he had too though, there was too much at stake, the very world hung in balance. If Harry Potter remained trapped in the past then Voldemort's rise to full power would be unstoppable and he would win. Many would die by his hand and the world would be once more plunged into Darkness. 

The others watched Snape sweep from the room, noticing his pale but determined face. They didn't know what he might have to face but they silently wished him luck in his mission. They all turned back to Dumbledore.

"Are you sure that Harry is alive?" asked Ron, dreading the answer and yet needing to hear it anyway. 

"I am. Look here."

He pushed the small book across the desk and the trio looked at it. It was a journal.

"The Journal of Godric Gryffindor," Dumbledore said quietly.

About half way down the page they found an entry in handwriting, which did not match the rest of the page.

Sir Godric asked me to write this to assure you that I'm very much alive, though very weak. Voldemort has not killed me or turned me so don't believe anything you may read on that score. The Boy Who Lived still lives and has made a "fifth escape" from him though I would not have chosen this time to escape to on my own. That choice, however, was taken from me. I'll tell you the full story when and if I am able to return. I will not pretend for a moment that this will not be dangerous and I know it may even be impossible for me to return to you. I also understand what we stand to lose should I be trapped and held here forever or until it is too late for my aid to do any good, yet I must stay here until I am fully healed for to attempt a Time Portal spell while I'm still so weak would be inviting death. I will be doing everything in my power to return to you. I cannot allow the Dark Lord to win nor will I ever surrender to him. He has taken too much from everyone and from me. I will not allow myself to lose faith and you should keep some faith as well. Know that I am safe here, for the moment so have no fear. When I am healed I will try to come to you but until then I hope this note will ease your minds. The Boy Who Lived will become the Boy Who Returns. You will see me again. Until then I will be studying here so I may keep up with classes.

Harry Potter, Hogwarts 1095


	11. Winds of Sorrow

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Eleven: Winds of Sorrow

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I have been terribly remiss in my duty. I forgot to give credit to the appropriate people for the songs used in the last two chapters. Well, the songs in the last chapters belong to a Celtic musical group called _Secret Garden _and the songs were called _Prayer _in Chapter 9 and _Dreamcatcher_ in Chapter 10. I'm sorry for this oversight. Thanks you all for the reviews…they keep me going. Please continue to enjoy the story and sorry for the delay but I was ill. HML

_If there's one thing Voldemort can't understand, it is love._

# Albus Dumbledore

_Chapter 17_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

## We'll see each other again. You are-truly your father's son, Harry…

# Sirius Black

_Chapter 21_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

Harry looked down at the words that were drying on the page of Sir Godric's journal and suddenly realized how stupid what he'd written sounded. It was, of course, too late to write something else for the ink was drying and had already started to set on the page. He only hoped that, if this book survived the ravages of time, the others would catch the note of sarcasm in his reference to himself as "The Boy Who Lived" and that they wouldn't think he was trying to be self-centered. He handed the ink, quill and book back to Sir Godric and leaned back in his pillows, suddenly wearied from writing and from all the information that had been forced into his mind in the last hour. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to make sense of what he'd just been told.

"So you are my ancestor and this is the year 1095?" he asked as he watched the candlelight flickering behind his closed eyelids. He wanted to be sure he'd heard correctly and that this was _not_ some figment created by his overtaxed brain.

"Yes," Godric paused for a moment. "I know this must be very difficult for you to believe and must be confusing for you as well."

Harry nodded not opening his eyes, trying to order his confused thoughts. To say he was confused had to be the understatement of the year. He was completely baffled and would not have believed it could be possible except that three of the founders of Hogwarts were standing before him and were very much alive. He had seen their faces looking down at him for four year from their portraits so he knew they were exactly who they claimed to be. He opened his eyes and looked around at the three of them again. There was a sad and haunted look in them now.

"And I may never be able to return to my own time?" he quietly asked as his heart contracted painfully at the thought.

"We cannot be sure until we try the Portalus Tempus Spell…" Lady Rowena began quietly.

"But it is possible that I will have to stay here" Harry interrupted her, his eyes misting over for a moment as he thought of the friends he'd left behind. _What will happen to them if I am trapped here?_

_ _

Rowena looked down at her hands and felt tears sting her eyes.

"It is possible that you trapped here…that the spell that sent you here has cast you outside of time…if that is true then nothing will be able to send you back. Try not to think about that now. There is no way of knowing until we try the Tempus Spell," Lady Helga said soothingly.

Harry closed his eyes and felt a shuddering sob starting before he managed to stop it. So, he might be trapped here for his lifetime, safe from Voldemort's power at last but at what cost to his friends? He felt tears begin to slip from under his closed eyes but this time he didn't stop them. The others stood silently, waiting for him to stop. Rowena's hands blurred as tears splashed onto them, Harry's predicament touching something inside her and she felt suddenly drawn to this boy who was trying to accept what had happened bravely but who was also a scared child. __

"You must be exhausted. We should leave you to sleep." Lady Helga said to him.

"Someone save my life at Az… in my own time.Were they transported too?" Harry asked, opening his eyes again and wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"There was a man with you in robes as dark as the night. He's been staying in another part of the castle. He says you would not want to see him. He seems very frightened."

"I want to thank him. Who is he?" Harry knew it was probably one of Voldemort's own Death Eaters who'd saved his life by the description of the man's robes but why had this Death Eater risked it all to save him? 

"He refuses to say his name. He says only that he did what he had to do to save you and that he can now die in peace…"

"_What?_ Die…" Harry's face paled again and he tried to get up from the bed, his own troubled thoughts and pained body momentarily forgotten. "Take me to him, please.

"You're still to weak to leave your bed…" Rowena began but she was cut off.

"He took a curse meant for me! Sir Godric, I must see him!" Harry's eyes were full of desperation and Sir Godric could almost read his thoughts. _Another life lost because of me…_

"I shall take you to him this afternoon but rest for now please or you may make yourself worse," Sir Godric said, hoping that the man would survive until then. He was in horrible pain that no spell had yet been able to abate and it seemed to be spreading throughout his body.

Harry reluctantly agreed to rest until the afternoon and was soon asleep as fatigue overcame him. He slept and the others left the room, leaving Fawkes to guard him.

~

He was dreaming again. Dreaming of the past. He saw his parents surrounded by their friends and they were all sitting around the lake, talking about graduation and what they wanted to do with their lives. Harry seemed to be floating above them, but he could hear every thing that was said. They were all talking about Voldemort and the war against him. 

"We have to fight him, " Harry heard his father say."His evil must be stopped before he takes over the whole world as Grindelwald nearly did years ago."

The others nodded in agreement and looked resolutely at James. 

"Let us then make a pact…to always defend one another and our families…" he looked at each of them in turn. "And to always remain true to one another and never go over to the Dark side."

The five of them all stood facing the setting sun and linked hands forming a circle. They all closed their eyes and Harry could see a faint glowing light around them that seemed to connect them. Then his mother began to recite an ancient spell:

"Let the five who stand thus joined/holding fast against the night/May evil ne're us disjoin/five who stand forever in the Light. The five who in this sacred circle stand/we now swear to ever fight/defending the very land/we will face his might. Let this circle remain unbroken/on our lives we now swear/these to be our token/though they may not be spared."

They each nicked their hands and joined them at the circle's center sealing the Spell of Joining. The light around them grew stronger and then flared for a moment before it weakened to a faint glow. Then Harry heard his father say:

"Repeat after me…I solemnly swear to defend all that I hold dear, to give aid to my friends when called upon, to protect the innocent and to stand fast against Voldemort's evil, doing all in my power to end his reign of terror and to _never_ surrender to His darkness." 

The others took the oath solemnly. Then Harry thought he heard a voice say:

## "The oath that was broken must now be restored"

_ _

Then the world around Harry began to spin and he found himself staring at Voldemort across a battlefield that seemed almost familiar though he couldn't quite place it. Voldemort's red eyes glowed in the darkness and his laughter echoed around Harry. Harry felt a debilitating fear and he stood unable to move, unable for the first time to make a choice in battle.

"You come too late, Potter. The battle is over and I have won. Everything you have known is now gone. You have lost! Surrender to me now and I _might_ be merciful," his voice was cold and mocking.

"I know what your "mercy" would gain me and I would rather die then to surrender to you. You shall have neither my power nor me."

"Ah, but I have taken something from you already that you will _never_ be able to regain. Your courage is now mine; your spirit is a weak and broken thing. You are nothing and have nothing left. Surrender now!"

Harry raised his wand, his heart pounding with fear, pointing it at Voldemort.

"You lie! You have taken nothing from me…" Harry's voice trembled and he knew that he was lying to himself. He was standing before his enemy unable to move, trapped in the indecision caused by overwhelming fear.

Voldemort grinned maliciously at Harry and laughed, pointing his own wand. There was a blinding flash; a cry of someone in pain and Harry saw a flash of silver for an instant before he found himself sitting up in bed. He rubbed the sweat off his face and tried to go back to sleep. He found he was shivering and he tried to calm his nerves but they refused to be calmed. He looked down at himself and saw the bandages that crisscrossed his body and the fear he'd experienced in his dream assailed him. Not the fear of death but the fear of anyone touching him or holding him captive again and the fear of knowing he would have to face Voldemort again someday.

He'd been tortured in more ways then one. He'd tried to ignore this fact since he'd awakened but he couldn't do it now that he was alone. He shook more violently and tried to drive the memories away but they rose up like ghosts before him, taunting him. He tried to turn away but they were there wherever he looked. He tried closing his eyes but the memories of all he'd been through was now etched on the insides of his eyelids, burned into his memory and unable to be removed. He drew his knees up to his chin and hugged himself. He'd tried to be brave, to put a brave face on for everyone else's benefit but deep inside he was afraid, more afraid then he'd ever been before.

"What is wrong with me?" he said as he watched Fawkes making short practice flights around the room. 

The phoenix began to blur and tears slipped silently down Harry's face. He once thought Voldemort couldn't hurt him any more then he had last year when Cedric Diggory had been killed right in front of him with Harry unable to prevent it. Now he knew Voldemort had hurt him far worse. He damaged Harry were his greatest strength had been, in his spirit. 

"Will I ever become whole again? Can I ever truly recover from this?" he thought as hot tears splashed on his drawn-up knees. "And now I am trapped in a time not my own…I am truly alone as Voldemort said I would be."

He laid his head on his knees and wept uncontrollably, no longer able to deal with the pain in his soul. He had been deeply wounded by his captivity and not just in body. He was no longer sure of whom to trust and was now unsure of even himself. How could he be counted on to stop Voldemort when his fear of Voldemort had grown greater then ever before? What if he froze the next time they faced one another? His world seemed to be crashing down around him and he could see nothing but darkness around him. Everything he touched seemed to be doomed to die. Anyone who befriended him was a target of Voldemort's wrath. Voldemort could take him from anywhere at anytime and could put him through Hell on a whim simply because Harry had not yet died. He was nothing and had nothing. All of his protections were broken, gone as if they'd never been.

Harry cried harder as he realized this. There was nothing he or anyone else could do to prevent Voldemort from capturing him again now that these protections were broken. He had no chance and he was afraid to let anyone ever touch him again or get close to him. His spirit huddled in a corner of his mind and he felt himself begin to huddle in the corner of the bed. Then he felt something land on his bed and he started, instantly assuming it was an attack of some kind. Looking up found Fawkes staring at him intently with his bright eyes. Harry reached out a hand and stroked the phoenix's bright feathers, watching the light rippling in them, tears still streaming down his face. Fawkes moved closer to Harry until the later was able to reach him easily and could feel the warmth that came from his feathers. Suddenly overcome with fear, Harry hugged the bird closer to him.

"Help me, Fawkes…please," he said softly, holding onto the phoenix as if Fawkes were a lifeline or some kind of anchor in a world gone mad. "Am I going mad?"

Fawkes remained sitting in Harry's lap for several minutes and then began to sing softly to him, surrounding him in the healing song of the phoenix. Harry felt his eyes get heavy and allowed Fawkes' song to carry him away to a place where he could rest without fear and without dreams. He relaxed and fell into a deep, healing sleep. Fawkes sat nearby and began to preen Harry's hair a worried look in his eyes. Over and over he sounded two low, worried notes. If there had been anyone awake in the room that understood phoenix-song-speech they would have heard two words within his song: _heartsick _and_ spiritwounded_. If someone didn't come to help the boy through this and soon he might well be broken forever. Fawkes continued to preen Harry's hair and waited for Sir Godric's return knowing that if anyone could heal Harry and help him it would be one who knew the horrors if captivity and the battlefield from personal experience as Sir Godric did.

~

From behind a curtain stepped a very pale and flushed Peter Pettigrew. He was dying and he knew he should be in bed but he had to see Harry to make sure he was safe and protected. Peter knew he had only a few days at most before the curse meant for Harry would kill him. He managed avoid part of the Killing Curse and most of the rest had been absorbed by the shield that had formed around them when they had apparated but a part of the curse had struck him in the arm, where it began to spread throughout his body. Although the shield had weakened the power of the curse it still could kill. Instead of killing immediately, it would kill slowly, taking his life an inch at a time. His arm was already useless and hung limp at his side. Now his legs were full of pain but he wanted one last look at Harry before he began to slip into eternal sleep. 

Harry lay in bed with one arm thrown over his face and the other clutching the blankets. At the head of the bed, Fawkes was perched with his head resting under one wing. Harry was sleeping quietly, with none of the fitful tossing and turning that Peter had seen back in the tent when they'd first arrived. Peter looked sadly down at him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop Voldemort from sending you here. I didn't know what he was doing until it was too late," he whispered so softly that he was barely audible. "Please, forgive me for all my wrongs…for everything that I've done to you…for betraying your family and Sirius. There was nothing I could do. I was too scared to stand with your parents and the others when it began to look as if Voldemort would win and I was too scared to stand up to my friends years later when I was confronted with what I had done. Both times I ran straight to the enemy whose promises were lies…"  
  


There was movement on the bed and Harry's eyelids fluttered a moment. Peter started to flee the room but then stopped. He was through with running. The time had come to face the son and godson of those he'd betrayed. Peter would die in peace if Harry could just find it in his heart to forgive him. 

"_Please let him be like, James. Please be forgiving like you father, Harry," _he thought as Harry's eyes opened and they focused on him.

"You!" Harry's eyes flashed as he spat out the word. "What are you doing here, Wormtail?"

Peter flinched at the cold tone in Harry's voice and at the use of his nickname. He stood there in silence.

"Come to finish your Master's work have you?" Harry said, his voice trembling and his eyes glazing over in fear.

Peter reached out a hand and Harry flinched away from it as if he expected Pettigrew to hit him. Peter's eyes widened. This was _not_ the Harry Potter he'd come to know. Something was terribly wrong.

"Come on…finish it then…its what He wants!" Harry yelled, fear lacing his voice and causing his body to tremble, tears falling from his eyes.

Harry sat up; wincing in pain and Peter saw the bandages that covered his torso and arms. Peter had never known anyone with that many wounds to survive yet inexplicable Harry had. 

"Take me…I can't stand it anymore! All the waiting for Him to come for me, knowing that every day could be my last, knowing that very next time we face each other I could die! I can't stand it anymore! I am alone! There is nothing left within me! I can't continue to live like this! Just finish it…let it end now…" Harry face was a mask of pain and then he threw himself face down on the bed and began to sob brokenly.

Peter looked at him as horror and fear moved through him. Voldemort had done it after all. He'd completely broken Harry's spirit. Pettigrew began to move forward but as he did so he felt his legs give out and he fell crashing to the floor. The room around him began to grow dim. He could hear a rustling above and a sharp hiss of pain.

"Fawkes, get Sir Godric quick!" 

There was the rustle of wings and then Peter saw Harry's blurred face hovering above his. His tear filled green eyes were full of concern and worry as well as pain. Peter could see some blood on one of the bandages around Harry's chest but Harry was ignoring it. Peter opened his mouth, knowing that the time had come to say what he'd meant to say before Harry's outburst.

"Harry…Please forgive…haven't much time…" 

Harry's eyes widened in surprise and for a moment his eyes turned cold.

"You were the one that saved me?" he asked without any emotion. "Why?"

Peter nodded. The room was growing dimmer by the second.

"Had to…James told me…the circle must not fade…must be renewed…you're the source of balance…Forgive…" 

"Why should I forgive you? You've caused me nothing but grief! Look what He has done to me!" Harry's eyes narrowed and Peter saw rage and pain in them.

How could he forgive the man who had betrayed his family to Voldemort? He was the reason Harry had no family. He'd betrayed Sirius and his friends. He could not forgive the man. He just couldn't but then he looked into Peter's eyes and saw something different. He couldn't put a name to it; he just knew something was different. Peter's eyes were full of remorse for the things he'd done, for all the betrayals he'd committed.

"Please…forgive me…" Pettigrew whispered, his eyes becoming glazed over.

Harry felt his resolve waver. It was clear that Peter was going to die. Harry could see it in his eyes and could see that Peter had accepted it as punishment for all the evil he had done in the past.

"I forgive you…" Harry said quietly, tears standing in his eyes.

Peter looked at him and smiled for a moment but made no move to touch him.

"Thank you…James would be proud…take me back with you when the time comes…there is one more life I can save…."

"Sirius…" Harry breathed.

"Fidelius Charm…traces…free Sirius…" Peter shuddered once and then his breathing suddenly stopped.

Harry looked down at him for a moment and then reached over to close his eyes.

"I promise, Sirius will be freed."

Harry's eyes filled with tears that silently coursed down his cheeks. Peter had finally found peace. Now if only he could. 


	12. Light's Lament

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Twelve: Light's Lament

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All the usual ones apply. I want to thank you for all your reviews. The amount that I get amazes me. You are all such wonderful people. Please enjoy and remember reviews are welcome but enjoying the story is more important. HML

_The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed…_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Chapter 22_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

_No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke-and that's why he's gone._

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Chapter 1_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

Sir Godric and the others found Harry shaking and sobbing next to Peter's dead body. Fawkes flew through the door to land beside Harry. Harry's red-rimmed eyes, shining with tears still unshed, looked up at the others. They could see the haunted and sorrowful look in his eyes and their eyes stung with tears at his hopeless and lost expression.

"Peter… my enemy… saved me…" he said in a voice heavy with sadness, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Why'd he do it…why?"

Harry looked dazedly back at the three of them as if seeking an answer. Lady Helga came forward then and, after changing the dressing and bandaging the deep gash on his chest, she helped him get back into bed. She made him promise to stay there for the next few days until he was fully healed. He never said a word but merely nodded distractedly, his eyes turned inward and looking slightly glazed over. Fawkes perched at the head of the bed again and sang Harry to sleep.

After Harry had been asleep several minutes, Fawkes looked at Sir Godric and gave one low whistle, then he began to preen Harry's hair as if he were a baby bird. Sir Godric nodded at the bird and turned to the others.

"When he awakens and is ready let me know, no matter what I am doing. I can see that he and I need to talk," Sir Godric pulled up a sleeve and looked at the deep, puckered scar that ran up his arm. 

The combination of fear, rage and helplessness Harry was feeling was nothing new to him for he had felt that way himself several years back. He's allowed himself to be taken by Muggle Witch Hunters, ones who had later turned out to be in league with the Dark Wizard Donnchadh, to allow time for their real prey, a muggle woman and her family, to escape. She had been branded a witch by some neighbor who was jealous of the family's wealth and position. Ironically, while the woman herself had no magical ability, her three youngest children did. One of the Hunters turned out also to be Donnchadh's right hand man and he had recognized Godric for who he was at once. He'd had Godric confined and tortured until he could be persuaded to turn dark. Even now Godric was unsure of how long he was held but at the time it had seemed like an eternity.

Godric looked at the puckered scar and shivered. You never really were the same after being captured and you also could never completely forget the torture but you could learn not to let it control your life. Even now, years later, Godric still had nightmares about it, though he ceased to think about it in the light of day. After a time and if you were strong your spirit healed. You learned to live again and your spirit was made stronger by it. But Harry had a long road ahead and the recovery of what had been taken from him would be difficult. Harry was at the most dangerous stage: for if he should choose to block the experience out instead of learning from it or if he were to become consumed by the fear caused by his ordeal, allowing the fear to control all his actions and reactions, then his spirit would never recover. Godric sighed. He was the only one likely to be able to help him at this stage.

The three of them left the room, none of them able to erase Harry's scared eyes and hopeless voice from their minds.

"Will he recover?" asked Rowena quietly as they passed several students in the corridor who were calling happily to one another.

"Physically he will be fine in a few days, although still extremely weak but as for the rest…" Helga turned to Godric.

"I will talk with him but it will take time for him to recover from this ordeal. I also think it would be a good idea if he were to have lessons while he is here."

Rowena arched an eyebrow and Helga looked at Godric questioningly.

"It will help keep his mind off things and help in his recovery, I believe."

The others nodded.

"Will he be taking classes with the other students?" Rowena asked cautiously.

"For the time being no. He is very weak and will remain so for some weeks. He will need bed rest but I would recommend that he join regular classes as soon as he is able to move more freely. It will do him some good to be with people of his own age," Helga said sagely, not failing to notice several nearby students perk up at this.

"Which house will he be in?"

"Gryffindor and he will not be tested. He will enter as a fifth year transfer. Fortunately for him our term has just begun so he will not miss much," Sir Godric said as the others nodded their agreement.

The three adults continued talking as they headed for the front doors of the castle for some much needed air. They failed to notice two pairs of eyes peeking out from a half open door. Five minutes after the Entrance Hall had been emptied of students returning to their respective common rooms, two people emerged from behind the door. They were both about 15 and dressed in black, velvet robes trimmed with fur. One was boy with blond hair and hazel eyes that held a hint of mischief in them. The other was a girl with startling violet eyes and long raven colored hair.

"A new student, Lina?" said the boy excitedly.

"And in our year too, Will. I wonder who he is?" Christlina's eyes twinkled and she smirked. "I wonder what Raoul Malfoy will say!"

Will smirked back, knowing that Malfoy would probably be angry. There had been very few people sorted into Slytherin's house this term. They rushed back to the Gryffindor Common Room to tell the others what they'd heard.

~

Harry slept for an entire day, unaware of the plans being made for him and unaware that the entire school was talking about The Mystery Student and where he could have come from. Several of the students resolved to try and catch a glimpse of this person and the Slytherins scoffed at the others. For three days after he awoke, Harry refused to leave his bed or to eat. He remained silent, refusing to say a word when he was awake and he would slip from wakefulness into slumber and back into wakefulness. He would awaken from a fitful slumber, his eyes darting around the room before settling on the ceiling. He would then stare at the ceiling as if it were the only thing of importance, trying not to think because the memories of what he's been through were just too painful. His eyes were the only thing that moved, he was too lethargic to move anything else and found that he didn't really care if he ever got up again. Everything had become nearly too painful for him to bear. His leg, which had somehow been broken, was sending shooting pains through his body as it healed and his back was stiff and tender.

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, after three nights of having nightmares and after hearing voices telling him he _must_ get out of bed now, he sat up and put on his glasses. Then he picked up a roll of parchment that was on the table beside him and began to write. He wrote down every dream he could remember from the time he was captured until that very moment. Sometimes it was just a word he wrote or the name of a town, though more often it was nothing more than a feeling or a landmark. He knew it wasn't much to go on but it was better than nothing.

After doing this for about an hour, Harry's hand grew tired from writing. Harry looked around and saw there was nothing to do. Sunlight was streaming through a window, the frame of which was made of pieces of many-colored glass. This stained glass made colorful patterns on the walls and floor. The beam of sunlight danced and Harry sat momentarily mesmerized by its beauty, his spirit beginning to lift slightly.

"The sun would feel good. I haven't seen the sun in ages," he thought as he watched dust motes hanging in the air. 

Harry watched the light for several minutes and, as he had done for the last several days whenever he was awake, Fawkes flew to his side. He looked from the sunbeam's glow that was tantalizingly out of reach and back to Harry.

"Do you think I can make it there?" Harry asked the bird, indicating the beam of light shining on the floor.

Fawkes looked Harry over with a somewhat stern expression and Harry smiled the pale ghost of a grin. Fawkes sounded several notes, which Harry was surprised he understood as speech.

"Sun good. Harry go."

Harry shook his head, not sure he'd actually heard the phoenix speak.

"Sun now, angry sky later. Harry try," Fawkes looked intently at him.

"You can speak…I've never heard…" Harry closed his eyes a moment as a spasm of pain flinted across his face.

Harry opened his eyes and Fawkes nodded at him, glaring at him until he finally got out from under the blankets and grabbed a robe he found at the foot of his bed. He put it over his now extremely thin body, surprised by how thin he was. Harry then looked at his broken leg. It had stopped hurting now but it was still splinted and awkward to manage without some kind of a crutch. Harry looked around for anything nearby that he could use as a cane but there was nothing. Harry's eyes swept the room and after a few moments searching he spotted a wooden cane in a stand across the room. He reached out to grab his wand from the bedside table and then remembered that he no longer had wand. He blinked his eyes, trying to keep from crying. His wand had been like an extension of his hand. He'd never, of late, been without it and rarely had let it out of his sight since the maze. He felt even more lost and more vulnerable without it then he had ever felt before. He felt tears beginning to sting his eyes again.

"Try…" Fawkes sang as he pointed his beak at the cane in its stand.

"Without a wand…" said Harry incredulously. "It's impossible."

He stared at the phoenix and Fawkes simply stared back, the hint of a dare in his sparkling eyes. Harry looked at the cane and thought a moment. He knew the Summoning Charm and what could it hurt if he tried. Feeling strange and slightly stupid he held out his right hand and pointed it at the cane.

"Accio cane!" he said firmly, although he fully expected nothing to happen. 

To his astonishment, a bright scarlet glow surrounded the cane and it flew straight to his outstretched hand. He'd done a spell without the use of a wand! He looked from his hand to the stand the cane had rested in a look of utter surprise on his face and his eyes round from shock. Then, like a flash, a dim memory surfaced. His mother and father were looking for some small object that they couldn't find. Harry remembered saying something and the object had flown to him from across the room. His parents had been so proud at his first magical display. Harry stared at the cane in his hand with a faraway look in his eyes for several minutes until Fawkes nudged him and the spell was broken.

Harry looked at Fawkes and then slowly, shakily rose to his feet using the cane for support. He stood for a moment, waiting for his legs to stop shaking, before slowly making his way toward the window. Soon he stood in a patch of glowing sunlight and he closed his eyes, letting the sun's warming rays pour over him. He kept his mind carefully blank of thought and simply stood enjoying the warmth that was washing over him. Then he opened his eyes and looked out the window for the first time. There were trees waving in the wind, their multi-colored leaves swirling, distant mountain peaks their tops white with snow and a bit of lake that shimmered in the sunlight. Through the glass Harry could hear birds singing and the sound of human voices mixed with laughter. Moving closer to the window, he looked out and saw several students on the grounds below him. He could hear them laughing and talking. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and seemed so carefree and innocent. Harry felt a stab of pain that had nothing to do with his wounds. Harry stood watching them, wishing he could join them and yet afraid to let any of them get to close to him. He continued to watch them with tears standing in his eyes, a mixture of fear and longing on his face.

"You could join them," he heard a voice say.

Harry watched the students for a few moments and said quietly:

"No. I'm not like them…they're…" Harry wrapped the robe tighter around his battered body and hugged himself, feeling a shiver run through him and not really sure what he was going to say.

"Harry, you cannot allow yourself and the ordeal you've been through create a wall between you and others. When you wall yourself in, you keep others out too, even friends. If you do so then you become cold and emotionless, a mere shell with no feelings…not even love."

Harry turned his tear bright eyes to Sir Godric, his face a mask of fury.

"What would you know of what I've been through these last months!" he said coldly, trying to keep the memories from surfacing but they flashed across his mind like a film. 

Sir Godric said nothing but slowly rolled up the sleeves of his robes and showed Harry the scars upon them. Harry gasped and his eyes grew wide as he looked from Godric's arms to his face.

"I was made captive once. About 15 years ago now but I saved several lives that night," he said quietly. "I was imprisoned and suffered so many acts of torture that I never thought to survive. Somehow I did though and when I was freed I felt as you do now."

Harry felt more tears sting his eyes and then he slumped to the floor, the cane clattering to the floor as it fell from his nerveless fingers. He put his face in his hands and his body shook with sobs. Sir Godric sank to the floor beside him, his scarlet robed pooling around him, so that Harry would know he was there. Finally, Harry looked up at Sir Godric, his face wet with tears and his eyes puffy and red.

"How did you get through this? I feel so helpless, like I'll never trust anyone again. I feel like I'm at war with myself. My heart says to trust you but my mind warns me I must not ever trust anyone. I feel so lost and so alone" Harry lip trembled and tears were threatening to fall again.

"What would help you most of all is for you to talk about it. Fear will have less of a hold if you talk about what happened."

Harry closed his eyes and Sir Godric could see tears leaking from under his closed eyelids. Finally, Godric saw Harry steeling himself and he opened his eyes, which were full of pain and fear. His lip trembling and his voice laced with emotion he began to tell Sir Godric everything and, as he told his story, he felt something inside beginning to heal.

~

Severus Snape was pacing Voldemort's throne room. He'd come back to the sight of Harry's disappearance at great risk to himself. Voldemort had spies everywhere and one might even now be watching him. Snape didn't care who was watching as long as he was given enough time to determine exactly what had happened to Harry.Dumbledore mission must come before anything else even his own safety and that plus the promise he made to James and Lily at their grave, were what drove him now. His choice had been made years ago and he would not betray them now. He would find a way to save Harry and the first step was to find who had cast the spell.

Snape covered every inch of the room and found nothing that would tell him the answers he sought.Glancing around, trying to determine if anyone was in the room, he muttered a spell and several things within the room began to glow with a green light. Severus studied each of the glowing objects closely before deciding that several of them had nothing to do with the spell that had been cast that night. There were only two other things in the room that glowed: the spot on the dais before Voldemort's throne where Harry had been kneeling and the stone on which Harry had been thrown when he'd refused to complete the Oath of Allegiance to Voldemort and from which he had disappeared. Snape studied the block of stone and found traces of the Time Distortion Spell upon it but this told him nothing of who cast it. There was no magical signature left behind. 

Snape turned his eyes upon the glowing stone on the dais and instantly a picture formed in his head. He saw a brief flash of burning red light coming from Voldemort's wand while everyone had been distracted by the scream made by the Death Eater. Voldemort had tried to disrupt the Death Eater's spell but then Voldemort's spell was blocked by a bright white shield, which had surrounded Harry and the Death Eater as they had vanished from the room in a flash of blinding white light. Snape held the image of this shield in his head and tried to study it. It looked like a Shield Charm but it seemed to have been altered to appear instantly when Harry's life was threatened. Snape wondered why it had not prevented Voldemort from torturing him but at the same time he marveled at it seeing Lily's hand in its creation. 

Snape began to cross the room to its outer door when he heard a slithering sound behind him. He tried to remain calm and to remain walking; unhurriedly toward the door but then he heard a voice cold as the grave.

"So Dumbledore's little spy returns to the scene." 

Voldemort's voice caused Severus to shiver but he turned calmly to face the Dark Lord, saying nothing.

"Oh, come now Severus. Surely you didn't really think your story would fool me. I can tell when people have been false to me and when I'm being lied to," Voldemort smiled wickedly. "Such a pity, Severus. You were one of my finest Death Eaters you know. You could have been my most trusted advisor but you have betrayed me."

Voldemort's red eyes bore into Severus' dark ones and Snape felt a shudder go through him.

"Those who betray me are dealt with harshly," his grin widened and he pointed his wand at Severus. "Let's see what you know shall we but first…Crucio!"

Severus' last thought was how he'd failed in his task before the room filled with his screams.

~

Dumbledore was worried.Snape had been gone now several hours beyond the time that he'd said the mission would take and there had been no word from him. The headmaster paced the circular room trying to ignore the fear in his heart, a fear that had been growing since Voldemort had regained the use of his body last year, a fear that was also prompted by the dangers of the mission he'd asked Snape to undertake as a spy in the camp of a dangerous and deadly enemy. Dumbledore knew what drove the man to accept this dangerous role even when he could have remained out of it altogether and it had very little to do with loyalty to him; Severus had loved Lily. She'd show him kindness as she had to everyone who'd known her and in that moment Severus had discovered love. No matter how much he scoffed at the idea, no matter how much he seemed to hate Harry, this was still a fact that could not be denied. Snape, for all his faults had once loved Lily even though he's never allowed her to know of it. Her memory was what drove Snape now and Dumbledore understood his motivations all to well. The memory of the Potters was what drove him. Severus was not the only one to have been touched by Lily's kindness nor was he the only one to feel he had somehow failed her.

The Potters had been the two who had held the Phoenix Order together by the strength of their wills alone, the ones whose bravery shone above the others. They had continued to serve even when they had found out that they were the next targets. They were the very heart of the resistance and when they had been murdered it felt as if Voldemort had cut out the very heart of the Order. Voldemort had managed to do more damage by that one act to the structure of the Order then he would ever know. Dumbledore stared out the window at the snow-covered mountains and the still and smooth lake but he saw none of it. He was looking beyond them, seeing into the past.

He saw again the smoldering ruin in Godric's Hollow; saw the shining Dark Mark hovering over the house that had become a house of death. Dumbledore closed his eyes, trying to will the images away but they remained and the rest of the night flashed past in his mind's eye. There was the crying of a baby who had miraculously survived the attack when no one else had been able to, the smoke that hung in the air and the bodies of Harry's parents laying where they had fallen defending the one who was the wizarding world's last hope. Dumbledore felt tears falling down his face.

"And how have I repaid you?" he thought miserably. "By letting Voldemort take him from this place of safety not once but twice." 

Guilt washed over him. He had failed in his duty to the Potters, first by failing to discover the identity of the traitor in the Order until it was too late and second by failing to protect Harry in his hour of need. Fawkes flew to perch on his shoulder and began to preen his hair in a comforting sort of way. Dumbledore reached up and stroked the phoenix's feathers but continued to stare out the window seeing nothing of the scenery there. He could almost hear Voldemort saying:_ You have failed…he is gone now and there is nothing you can do to save him._

_ _

There was a thump behind him and Dumbledore turned swiftly, his wand at the ready. On the floor before him was a nearly unconscious Snape who was still twitching in the throws of a Cruciatus Curse. His body was covered with blood and there were cuts on his face. Dumbledore rushed to his side and knelt next to him while summoning a stretcher. Severus grabbed his arm and tried to speak.

"Don't speak. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing…"

"Dementors…attack…"

The room around Snape seemed to grow dim and he could hardly see anything anymore but he had to tell Dumbledore what he'd learned now before he slipped away. He held onto Dumbledore's arm and whispered:

"Memorius Totalus."

The last of his reserve strength gone, Severus began to feel himself slide away as a wave of darkness moved over him but before he lost consciousness completely he saw comprehension dawning on Dumbledore's face and he knew that the spell had worked. Snape smiled. No matter what happened to him, Dumbledore now knew everything Snape had witnessed and he knew that Severus had remained loyal to the Light and all it stood for. Snape sighed and closed his eyes as the world disappeared around him.

~

One thousand years in the past Harry awoke from a nightmare, his scar hurting, as it had never done before. His wide eyes stared at the ceiling above him and fear washed over him. The Dementors…they were on the move and now no one would be safe. Harry shivered as his exhausted body slipped back into slumber, praying that his dream was not accurate for if it was then nothing would be able to stop Voldemort's rise this time. Not even whatever mysterious power he carried. 


	13. An Ancient Foe

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Thirteen: An Ancient Foe

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own none of this story except the plot and some new characters that are introduced in this chapter. Thanks for being such loyal readers! It makes me glad to know that some of you like the story as dark as it is. Thanks again! Reviews are always welcome. HML

_ _

_…tell Dumbledore…Harry Potter…the Dark Lord…stronger…Harry Potter…_

# Bartemius Crouch Sr

_Chapter 25_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

_The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before._

# Sybil Trelawney's second "true" prediction

## Chapter 16

# Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

_ _

A month passed so quietly that it was hardly noticed. Harry stood once again at the window, watching the students below him who were flying on broomsticks throwing what appeared to be a Quaffle at one another. He watched them in silence, his eyes fixed on the three who were passing the red ball between them. Several other students watched the trio, who had now begun to do tricks on their brooms, still throwing the Quaffle as they did so. Harry longed to be on his Firebolt, the wind whistling in his ears and whipping his robes, his troubles for a moment forgotten. His wished that he could be out there with the others doing loop-the-loops, flying at top speed and maybe doing a spectacular dive or two. He smiled and for brief moment his eyes lit up with joy in life. He loved flying; it was the one thing he did well, and Quidditch. He couldn't wait to be astride a broomstick again. 

Harry sighed as he turned away from the window and his face sobered. The truth was that he couldn't join them. He was still very weak and, even without Lady Helga telling him so; he would have known it was true. Even now, some activities still left him out of breath, dizzy and in need of a long rest. Lady Helga said it would take another month or two before his insides would be completely healed and he believed her. He was too weak to fly just yet and was almost afraid to try it for fear that Voldemort would capture him whilst he was airborne again. Harry shivered and tried not to think of Voldemort for the thought only brought fear to him.

"This is stupid!" he thought fiercely as he hugged himself. "Voldemort is _not_ here. This room is protected and he can't touch me."

Even as he thought this, another voice was saying in his head: _What if you leave this room though._ Harry tried to shake off the feeling but it lingered, like a poison in his body.

Harry turned back to the window to watch the flying students again. He tried not to think about why he was still so weak nor of the reason his body was now covered with multiple and deep scars. He also tried not to think of the nightmares he'd been having for the last month; dreams that were full of horrible screams, voices pleading for help, flashes of green light, glowing Dark Marks that tinged the sky above a vivid green, Voldemort's evil laughter and mad red eyes glowing in an impenetrable darkness and everywhere, hooded and cloaked, Dementors spreading fear like a plague before them. Harry shivered although he stood in bright sunlight and two tears traced their way down his cheeks. He leaned his head against the windowsill and pounded his fist against it, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness.

He wanted, no needed, to help his friends. The pleading voices and screams he heard in his dreams were theirs. They were calling to him in voices full of fear, wanting him to return to his own time. He closed his eyes but that failed to block out the images from his most recent nightmare. The ground was littered with bodies and crimson with split blood, Voldemort's laughter echoed all around him, the castle was a heap of smoldering ash and the air was full of smoke and tortured screams. The Dementors and Death Eaters surrounded him, trying to prevent him from completing some spell and striving to take him down. There was suddenly a brilliant flash of pure white light and then nothing. Harry, his eyes streaming tears, trembled with a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. This was some new torture Voldemort had devised for him, this being able to see what was going to happen to his friends but to not be able to do anything to help them or to even take any action. He could even hear Voldemort in his dreams whispering of the destruction of everything he held dear, whispering words that undermined the fragile hope that had begun to grow in his heart: _You are trapped…helpless to prevent what prophecy says will come. I will win, Harry Potter and there will be nothing left of the world you knew. _

_ _

"NO!" 

Harry turned away from the window and flung himself face down on the bed, sobbing as if his heart was broken, the pain overcoming his spirit again. All the grief, all the pain, and all the fear he had locked within his heart returned to him tenfold. Voldemort was right. He was powerless to stop any move Voldemort might try and he was trapped. But, even as he thought this, he felt something inside of him rise and an image floated to the surface of his mind, calming its ruffled waters until they lay still again: the image of himself surrounded by his friends with his parents hovering nearby.They all smiles at him and he felt strength flowing into him and, after a moment, he was able to push aside the memories of his ordeal and the nightmares so that they no longer controlled his emotion or his reactions. He would get through this somehow and he would be able to face Voldemort again. He would survive.

Harry felt his body stop trembling and he lay there for a moment, weak and a bit lightheaded. After a few minutes he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked up to find Fawkes and Sir Godric regarding him. Fawkes was perched at the foot of the bed while Sir Godric was standing in the doorway, a look of sadness flitting across his bearded features for a moment before his face settled back into calmness. Fawkes cocked his head to one side and looked intently for a moment at Harry.

"Harry strong. Harry survives. Harry lives."

Harry sat up and wiped his tears on the back of his hand.

"Harry worried for friends. Harry sad," Fawkes continued, his eyes bright. Harry nodded, a look of surprise on his face.

Sir Godric strode into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He picked up a roll of parchment that was lying there and began to read it through, his face paling.

"Another one, then?" he asked softly.

"Yes." Harry replied in an almost expressionless voice.

Godric's face paled more as he continued to read it closely. Sometimes the gift of seeing into the future was a great and heavy burden for you never knew whether what you were seeing would come to pass. Harry looked at Fawkes and stretched out a hand to stroke his feathers. 

"Harry nice. Feels good," Fawkes nipped at him playfully on the fingers. 

Harry stopped scratching the phoenix's back for a moment and gazed once more toward the window, wishing he could go outside even for a moment. Fawkes fluttered his wings and brushed Harry's outstretched hand with the tip of one to get his attention.

"Not say stop scratch," he protested.

"Sorry, Fawkes," said Harry distractedly.

Shaking his head to clear it, Harry looked at Sir Godric, who seemed to be staring into the flames of the fire that burnt brightly in the fireplace, the roll of parchment in his hand forgotten.

"Why am I able to understand Fawkes now when I couldn't in my own time?" he asked.

"It is a very rare gift that is passed down in my line. It is one of the things that will mark the true Heir of Gryffindor. Just as the heir of to the House of Slytherin will be marked by their ability to converse with snakes so too can the Heir of my house speak to phoenixes. You are beginning to come into your full power now. You power will grow by the day and you will begin to discover new abilities as time passes."

Harry nodded in understanding and wondered what Sir Godric would say if he were told that Harry could also speak Parseltongue. Deciding that he really didn't want to find out, Harry turned his attention back to the window and rose to look out of it again.

"I wish I could go out for just a few minutes," Harry sighed and turned back to Godric, who was smiling broadly.

"Lady Helga says you should be allowed to go out and bids me tell you that you now have permission to move freely throughout the castle. I believe she is tired of seeing you mope at that window."

" I…can…" Harry smiled, his eyes sparkling with life again, for a moment an ordinary fifteen year old that has been inside too long.

Godric smiled and nodded. Then he handed Harry a piece of parchment, which Harry looked at curiously.

"You will join the rest of the students in regular classes tomorrow. We have tutored you so you should have no trouble in keeping up with the rest of the class. I will be announcing you at dinner in the Great Hall tonight."

Harry's heart pounded with excitement and a little fear at the thought of meeting people from this time and at the thought of leaving his sanctuary. He looked at the timetable in his hand for a moment and then looked back at Sir Godric.

"I will be happy to join you at dinner," said Harry, not really knowing what else to say. "Do you think it would be alright for me to go outside now?" 

"Of course but don't forget your cloak and be careful. You are not yet fully healed and any injury now could be a lasting one."

He held out the fur-lined, black cloak to Harry who took it and swung it over his shoulders. He gave Fawkes another scratch and then departed, smiling and with a spring in his step that had not been there before. He stopped at the door and turned.

"Thank you, Sir Godric, for everything," then, with a smile that showed no trace of worry, he was gone.

Sir Godric watched him go, glad to give Harry some respite from his troubles if only for a moment. Harry was so young but he carried the burden of one who was much older, the fate of his world rests on his shoulders

"Why, good Lord? Why burden one so young?" he thought, shaking his head.

Fawkes was right. Harry was stronger than he looked and he carried all of the gifts of his House and lineage within him. His power was great and would continue to grow stronger if he was able to survive long enough to complete his training. The amount of power Harry carried far exceeded his own and frightened him though he strove to hide that from Harry.

"So your _Heir_ grows stronger now does he?" a sneering voice said behind him, interrupting his thoughts.

Godric rose and turned to face Lord Salazar Slytherin, who stood glaring balefully at him.

"Leave the boy be, Slytherin!" Godric said coldly. "If I hear you have done him any harm…"

Slytherin snorted: "Why would I want to harm the boy. He has done nothing to me."

"He fights your Heir in his own time."

Salazar waved away Godric's words as if they were unimportant and grinned maliciously.

"No matter. The boy carries great power, that is true, but part of that power belongs to me."

Godric paled and looked stunned. Then the image of Harry's magical aura flashed across his mind: the scarlet light of Gryffindor marred by a darkness tinted with green.

"Yes, Sir Godric," Slytherin said mockingly, his eyes glowing for a moment. "He too carries my blood in his veins and so you see a part of my powers resides within him as well."

"That's impossible!" Sir Godric leapt onto Salazar and grabbed his robes.

"I speak only what is the truth and you have seen proof of this with your own eyes," said Slytherin smiling again. "His mother's family are direct descendants of me, though of course they no longer carry my name."

Godric's eyes grew wide and he let go of Salazar's robes numbly. Salazar straightened his robes and went to the door.

"So you see Godric, I would never hurt the boy. He still has a role to play in his own time and has yet to make the choice all those in balance must make. The evil within him is strong and growing stronger, even as the good is."

With that Slytherin left the room, an evil grin playing about his thin lips. Godric stared after him in shocked silence. 

"Harry…" he thought, a look of stunned disbelief on his face and fear in his heart. It was not possible. Harry was not evil and could never be turned. Godric stared into the fire unseeing and wondered.

~

Harry stood at the great oaken doors that lead out to the Hogwart's grounds, slightly out of breath. He leaned against the portals for a moment and breathed deeply as Lady Helga had told him to do, trying to catch his breath but not quite managing too. He stood there for some minutes wondering what he would find beyond the doors and wishing for once that he had read _Hogwarts: A History_ as Hermione had done for it would have told him what to expect beyond the portal. He closed his eyes and pictured the grounds, as he knew them, neat and trim with the forest off in the distance. He sighed, realizing suddenly how much he missed the others and his own time. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and then pulled the near door open, finding that it opened easily and quietly. Cautiously, he peered around the door and was instantly struck by how untamed and wild the grounds looked beyond it. Ancient trees towered overhead at the end of a short expanse of lawn. There was a high wall made of carefully piled stones at the end of the only pathway Harry could see. This pathway seemed to correspond with the drive, which lead from the main gates to the castle itself in his own time. There was a small wooden gate set were the path ended instead of the largely ornamental gate he remembered.

Harry step outside the door and saw a bridge before him that crossed a wide trench full of water. Looking up he saw chains, which connected the bridge to the castle and a huge portcullis that at the moment was raised to allow people to pass through. Harry began to cross what he now recognized as a drawbridge over the moat. For a moment he paused to see what creatures might dwell in the moat. Looking in to the slightly murky waters he thought he saw a grindlylow and several large fish. There were also several smaller fish swimming in the water whose bodies flashed silver, gold and blue.Harry continued to cross the bridge and soon found himself on the somewhat smooth lawn beyond it looking at Hogwarts Lake, which at least looked like he remembered it looking, although there seemed to be more trees near it.Harry decided that the lake was as good a place as any to think and made his way toward it. The sun came out from behind the clouds causing the lake to shimmer as Harry sat down on a rise near it. He watched the sunlight dance across the lake's surface, all thought forgotten for a moment, as he allowed the beauty of the scene to farther calm his troubled mind. 

When Harry came back to himself he found the sun had changed position and was no longer making the lake look like molten gold. He sighed, enjoying the wild beauty of the place. He has just looked down at the rolled piece of parchment in his hand, figuring he might as well see what class he had first, when a shadow fell over the paper. Instantly, Harry leapt to his feet and thrust his hand into his robes in search of his wand. He saw someone jump back at his movement. Trying to still the terrified beating of his heart, he realized too late that this was no attack. A girl with violet eyes and long dark hair was looking at him in confusion. She had a broomstick in her hand and there was a slight looking boy behind her looking surprised.

"Er…Sorry, " Harry said suddenly embarrassed by his behavior.

The girl, who looked about his age, stared at him for a moment and then smiled.

"No need to apologize good sir. Twas I who startled you forgetting what I was told,…" she blushed.

Harry scrabbled to his feet and made an awkward bow as Sir Godric had taught him to. She curtsied back and the boy with her bowed as well.

"My name is Christlina McKinnon, pleased to make your aquaintance…." 

"Harry Potter," Harry said, looking at the girl curiously as she curtsied again.

"Hullo Harry," the boy said."William Prewett is my name but everyone calls me Will."

Harry bowed again and then looked across the lake, trying to think of something to say. Turning back to Christlina and William he noticed the brooms in their hands. 

"I was watching you from the window," he said pointing to the window high above them."That was some flying you were doing there. I wish I could fly…"

Christlina held out her broom to him and he saw the name on it: _Windrider 1200_.

"If you don't have a broom you could borrow mine…" she said with a smile that made her eyes sparkle

Harry reached out to take the broom and then remembered his recent injuries, which were not quite healed.

"I wish I could, " and then not knowing how much the students knew about him, he added. "but I'm not allowed to yet. I've been badly hurt and am still not well."

As if to help him illustrate the point a sharp pain went through his back and he winced. His face paled for a moment as the pain coursed through him and then he found he wanted badly to sit, which he did, feeling slightly dizzy.

"Are you doing poorly…Shall I fetch Lady Helga?" Will's concern was evident in his voice.

"No, I'll be alright in a moment."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the other two looked on. After several minutes the pain receded somewhat and he was able to stand once again.

"Lady Helga told us you were gravely wounded…." Will began looking for a moment at the scar on Harry's forehead.

"William Angus Prewett! Sir Godric told us not to ask such questions. It is very rude!"

"No, it's quite all right, Christlina…" 

She shot him a quizzical look and glared at Will.

"I'm used to people wanting to know all about me back home." Harry said nothing more not really knowing quite what to say about his home.

"You shall join us for dinner at our table? We are in House Gryffindor as well."

Harry nodded and his eyes became bright again as a longing for his friends overcame him.

"So this is the stranger?" said a cold voice that reminded Harry so much of Voldemort that he had to restrain the shiver that ran up his spine. "What are called?"

Harry looked up and saw a pale boy with brown hair looking at him as if he was some sort of unsavory animal.

"Harry Potter," said Harry, his body tense as a bow string.

"Another upstart Potter. My father has told me all about your family. You are the lowest of the low not even of the nobility. You are nothing but a lowly commoner," the boy smirked, waiting for Harry to react.

Harry's face paled and anger coursed through him but he did nothing. His injuries were still to recently healed to do what he longed to do, which was to ram the boy's words down his throat.

"Malfoy…how dare you insult a stranger to our school. He has done nothing to provoke you." Christlina's eyes were blazing and she glared at Malfoy as if he were something disgusting.

"That is Lord Malfoy to you! If I were all of you I would be wary. One day soon your families will all be gone and only mine will remain. Just a small warning for those of you who have chosen the wrong side in this conflict."

Raoul Malfoy left them standing there, staring after him as he made his way back to the castle. Harry found he was trembling and he sat down again. Malfoy's warning echoed in his head and a dim memory surfaced. He could hear the voices of his parents above him and he heard the names Prewett and McKinnon and heard a sobbing female voice saying: _Oh, James they're dead too. _The memory was hazy but unmistakably there. He looked quickly at the other two and there was a sad look in his eyes. They looked at him curiously for a moment.

"Are you well?" Christlina asked. "Your eyes glazed over for a moment."

"I'm okay. Just tired. I think I'll go to my room and rest for a bit," said Harry not wanting to go into what he knew about the future of their families. "I'll see you all a dinner. It was very nice meeting you both.

Harry made a sketchy bow and went back to the castle wanting some time to himself before dinner. Will and Christlina stared after him, noticing for the first time that he walked with a slight limp.

"Strange." Christlina said quietly.

"I wonder what happened to him?" Will looked at Christlina as she watched Harry reenter the castle.

~

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and tried in vain to tame his wild hair. Giving up on being able to do anything to it, he turned instead to straightening his robes, trying to get imaginary wrinkles out of them. Ordinarily he didn't care much about his appearance but tonight he wanted to make a good impression on the others. He brushed some dirt from his dark red velvet robes with fur trim of a light brown. Someone had supplied him with new robes and there was a note on his bed indicating that he should travel to Ollivander's soon in order to receive a new wand. He wondered how he would get there and what Mr. Ollivander might say to him when he did.

"Well, at least he can be expecting me this time," thought Harry as he tried once more to make his hair lay flat.

Harry thought about what would happen in the Great Hall and wondered how much would be different from his own time. The smell of the feast below caused his stomach to rumble and he grinned. His appetite seemed to be returning at last and he felt as if he could eat as much as Ron was known to eat. He fixed his hat on his head and was just about to leave when something in the mirror caught his attention. He gazed into its bronze surface and saw an image beginning to appear within it's reflective surface, hazy at first and then growing clearer the longer he gazed at it. Harry saw the image of his parents. They were floating above someone who was slumped on the ground. He could see their lips moving but couldn't make out what they were saying. They seemed to be trying to warn him of something for their hands were motioning at something Harry couldn't see, something out of his view and something that was over their heads. They were waving their arms frantically and shouting as another image replaced theirs. He saw his parents again but this time he saw them in their final moments of life, as the stove to protect him from Voldemort's attack.

"No…" he whispered, anguish in his heart, as he stretched out a hand toward their images in the mirror.

He looked at them until they faded away and then the image became one of his first parents who looked to be deeply in love even though a dark shadow seemed to hover close to the Potter who would become Grindelwald. He saw his natural mother die defending him from an attack similar to Voldemort's own.

Harry closed his eyes and willed the hazy images to go away even as he was trying to divine their meaning. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something half remembered but the harder he tried to remember the more elusive the thought became. He opened his eyes to stare into the mirror again but the visions had vanished. There was nothing reflected in the mirror but himself, looking pale and scared, Fawkes and a small part of the room behind him. He laughed at his own foolishness and would have dismissed the whole thing except that he had a feeling that he was forgetting something very important. Unable to figure out what was bothering him, he took one last look in the mirror but saw nothing but himself. Making sure that his robes were still straight and that his hair was at least presentable, Harry turned from the mirror and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. The images he'd seen in mirror were temporarily forgotten in the excitement of the moment. Thinking no more about them, he made his way to the Great Hall and the feast that awaited him.

He didn't see the eyes, which watched him from the mirror, nor did he hear a faint cold voice whisper: _Choices have yet to be made, young Heir to Gryffindor. Be careful lest you fall into the darkness you want so much to avoid. ._

_ _

A figure stepped through the mirror and dropped a rolled up parchment on Harry's bed and with a swish of a dark cloak the stranger was gone as if he had never been.


	14. The Wolf that Follows

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Fourteen: The Wolf that Follows

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All Characters belong to JKR. I'm merely a humble author who enjoys writing of them. Thank you all for the reviews. Hope you enjoy this part, although it took forever to write due to another attack of the flu. Hope you enjoy this one as well as the others and remember that reviews are welcome but not as important as the story itself. HML

You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…

# The Sorting Hat

_Chapter 7_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

Yes…you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before. You would have done well in Slytherin-

# The Sorting Hat

_Chapter 12_

_Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

_ _

Harry walked down the long, winding and empty corridor toward the Great Hall, wondering what was in store. His body trembled slightly and he was sure the occupants of the few portraits could hear his heart's frantic beating. He could hear them whispering to one another, probably discussing him. He tried to be annoyed by this but found that he couldn't seem to get worked up about it. 

"_Let them have their talk_," he thought as he walked along.

If they wanted to talk about him then he could really do very little to stop them and besides he really didn't want to anyway. He continued to walk, silently, with his own thoughts.

"_How mush do the others know about me_?" he wondered as he passed through an arched doorway. "_And how much would they believe if I told them_? _How much should I even tell?_"

He was still puzzling over these questions when he came to the Entrance Hall and the doorway, which led to the Great Hall. He stopped his musings, resolving to try to find the answers later, and paused at the door unsure of whether to enter or to wait. The aroma of food was making his stomach growl again and Harry could hear voices that seemed to echo off the room's walls. The room then descended into a silence so deep that Harry was afraid for a moment that everyone had simply vanished into thin air. Harry stood irresolutely near the portal, not knowing what to do but somehow knowing that he should not enter yet.

Suddenly, Lady Rowena appeared at his side and took his arm, just as Pavarti had done last year when they had entered the Great Hall as Champion and partner for the Yule Ball. Visible shaken by the similarity to that event, Harry paled and tears once more glistened in his eyes as the memories of all that had happened during the Tournament came back to him. Lady Rowena looked at him in concern.

"Something troubles you?" she asked, frowning slightly at him.

"It's nothing, my lady," Harry said in a flat voice as he attempted to regain some control over his emotions.

She looked into his eyes and at his pale face again. Then, without a word, she led him into the room and up the aisle toward the long table on a raised dais at the end of the room. Harry looked at the people seated at what was the teacher's table in his own time. He recognized Lady Helga and Sir Godic who had, along with Lady Rowena, been largely responsible for his recovery and for his education during the month it had taken his body to regain some of it's former strength. The others at the table were unfamiliar to him although he had already done assignments for them given to him by Sir Godric. There was a thin, pale woman seated next to Lady Helga who had a pleasant face and was dressed in silvery flowing robes, a young dark skinned man wearing a turban and robes of bright blue that seemed to flow around him like water, a witch with long red hair and bright blue eyes dressed in dark wine colored robes with silver trim, a white-haired man in green, whose sharp eyes and sever expression reminded Harry oddly of Prof. McGonagall and, at the very end of the high table, a sharp faced man in dark green who was glaring at some students who had dared to interrupt this solemn occasion with whispered words. Harry knew he had seen this last wizard somewhere before but couldn't place him.

They had reached the high table and Harry, who had not had time to look at anything else about the Great Hall, was motioned forward by Sir Godric. Lady Helga smiled briefly at him and winked. Harry smiled back and Helga was happy to see life sparkling in the eyes that had held nothing but pain and grief for the last month.She had been growing more and more concerned for him as the weeks had passed because he had seemed to have not cared about anything at all and he seemed to be having dreams that left him pale, shaking and sleepless. The glint she saw in his eyes comforted her and she prayed that Harry would allow his life to proceed from his ordeal and that it would no longer have such a hold over everything he did.

"Being with others his own age should help him regain some what was lost by his captivity," she thought, silently cursing the Dark Wizard responsible for his plight as she watched him limp forward. 

Harry, meanwhile, had turned to face the gathered students to be announced to them. He looked around curiously at the room that he could now see properly for the first time. Harry saw the four house tables looking as they had always had, if a bit newer. He noticed that there were fewer students seated at them then in his own time. Glancing quickly around the room, he saw that there appeared to be more Gryffindor's then anything else. House banners hung magically from the ceiling above the house tables. The magic ceiling above him showed a clear night full of stars and a full moon hanging low in the sky. Harry briefly thought of Professor Lupin and wondered what he was doing and how Sirius was. The room before him blurred as tears began to pool in his eyes and he willed himself not to cry.Godric now stood behind him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder to steady him. Harry blinked for a moment and then his eyes cleared. Behind him he could hear Sir Godric strong, clear voice beginning to speak.

"This is Harry Potter. He has come to us from a great distance and will now be joining Hogwarts as a student. He has just recently recovered from grave injuries in spirit and body and I would ask you to not demand he tell you about his recent ordeal. Treat him with both respect and honour," Sir Godric said as the students began to whisper among themselves. "He has been tested and will belong to House Gryffindor. I wish for all of you in my House to treat him as one of our own while he remains with us."

Harry saw the Gryffindors nod in agreement with Sir Godric's words and he smiled inwardly, happy that some things would not change and yet glad that things were different as well. Glancing over to the Slytherin table, he saw Raoul Malfoy scowling at him and whisper something to a pale-faced girl next to him. 

"Harry, you may now take your place at the table and we can begin our feast," Sir Godric smiled encouragingly at Harry and Harry made a formal bow, turning away to go to the Gryffindor table. 

Everyone's eyes watched him as he sat down and whispered voices seemed to follow in his wake. Finally, he sat down between Christlina, who was smiling a huge smile, and William, who seemed impressed that Harry knew Sir Godric. The students fell to eating the food that appeared on their plates, only occasionally looking at Harry, although curiosity was mirrored on all faces. Harry noticed the food was about the same, although there was less variety then he was used to. He also noticed that quite a few people were using their bread as a utensil and that the ones that weren't were using their knives to spear pieces of meat and vegetables. Harry looked down at his plate and found that there was no fork, just a knife and a spoon, which explained why they were using their bread or a knife. Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up his knife and began to eat, careful to avoid the sharp edge of the knife as he did so. 

"Welcome to House Gryffindor!" said William, grinning at Harry who grinned back.

"Where do you come from?" asked a dark hair boy, who looked a little younger then Harry.

Harry was just about to answer, feeling that this was at least a question he could answer, when he was interrupted by another voice.

"When did you arrive?" This voice belonged to a sandy haired girl.

"What year are you?

"Are you related to Rhys Potter?"

Hundreds of questions came winging at Harry at once. He knew he could never honestly answer some of them. He looked pleadingly at Christlina and Will who glared at the others for a moment.

"Leave him be, all of you." Will said in a quiet voice that the others nevertheless took seriously.

"He only just been presented. Let him alone. Your questions will be answered later," said Christlina firmly and the others mumbled apologies to Harry, who nodded. 

Casting around for some other topic of discussion instead of himself, Harry looked back at the high table and looked at the other teachers there. 

"Who are the others there?" he asked curious about who his other teachers would be while he was here.

It was the sandy haired girl, who introduced herself as Olwyn, who answered his question.

"The woman in silver is Lady Alina, who teaches History of Magic. The dark one, Lord Harakhty, leads us in our studies of the heavens," Olwyn paused to look at the astronomy professor a moment, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Olwyn likes him," the dark haired boy said as he poked her in the ribs with his elbow.

"Rhodry, keep to your own affairs, if you please," Olwyn blushed a furious red and Rhodry looked disgusted. 

"The Lady Leila, the one with red hair, teaches Divination and she's a true seer, " Rhodry continued for Olwyn, who seemed to be involved in staring at the high table, the dreamy look still on her face. "Rannoch tells us about magical creatures and…."

"Whose the one in dark green? I seem to remember seeing him somewhere before." Harry asked watching the professor in question as he glared down the table at Sir Godric.

"That is Lord Salazar. He teaches potions and is one of the founders of Hogwarts." Olwyn said, quietly, her eyes still on Lord Harakhty.

Harry's eyes narrowed and his heart froze in his chest. _So this was the one who was the ancestor of Voldmort's._ Harry felt his hands clench into fists and his face became set. Rage boiled up in his heart and for a moment the desire to kill became so strong that he almost gave in to it. He wanted to stop the madness in his own time at its start. If he could somehow manage to kill Salazar Slytherin here and now then Voldemort would never be. His parents, Cedric, Sirius and many others who had been killed or worse by Voldemort would be alive and well in his own time. He could save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives with one decision in the past. Then, as if from a great distance, he heard Hermione's voice telling him about the dangers involved in time travel and he knew then that he couldn't kill anyone, much less one of the founders of Hogwarts without it affecting every aspect of time. 

"Are you well, Harry?" Christlina was standing in front of him, her eyes full of concern. "You went elsewhere again."

"It's nothing," said Harry, returning to the food on his plate. 

Harry failed to notice the worried look passed between Christlina and Will and they silently agreed to keep watch on Harry. 

The rest of the meal passed without incident and all to soon it was time for everyone to return to their Common Rooms to finish the work that was due the next day. Harry bid farewell to the others in the Entrance Hall and returned to Sir Godric's room where he'd been told to stay while his wounds continued to heal. He threw his hat on a chair and noticed several scrolls on his bed. He picked them up and leafed through them. Some contained his dreams and one was a note from Lady Helga reminding him to drink his potion that would help his wounds inside to heal faster. There were two others, one tied up with a red ribbon which Harry found was from Sir Godric informing him that they would leave after morning classes to get his wand. Harry's eyes misted over for a moment before he began to wonder what Diagon Alley circa 1095 looked like. Some of the shops he knew were not established until well after Hogwarts had been founded. He grinned but the grin was stifled by a yawn that took him by surprise.

"_Guess I'm more tired than I thought_," he said to himself as he stretched and yawned again.

Putting aside all the parchment on his desk, Harry began to change for bed. The last piece of parchment, which was tied with a black ribbon, could wait until morning. Yawning again, Harry drank the potion Lady Helga had left and climbed into bed, blowing out the candle next to him. Fawkes flew to him and began to sing him to sleep. Harry smiled for a moment, watching the fire dance in the grate, its shimmering flames leaping and spinning within the confines of the fireplace, seeming to cast a spell over him. His eyelids became impossible to keep open any longer and he could feel himself drifting away. In the mirror the eyes watched and a faint laugh could be heard.

~

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke the next morning was that he felt extremely tired although he had managed to sleep soundly throughout the night and had had no nightmares, at least none that he could remember. His mind felt foggy and clouded but he thought it must be due to the potion that Lady Helga had asked him to drink. Yet, there was something that somehow felt out of place. For a brief second an image came to the surface of his mind; a pair of glowing eyes and a voice that seemed to be commanding him to do something that he didn't want to do. Then they were both gone again and the harder Harry tried to recall the image and voice the farther they seemed to slip out of his reach. Harry, frustrated at his inability to remember what happened, resolved to think about it later. He blocked the feeling of unease he was experiencing and went down breakfast with the rest of the school.

Harry first began to suspect that there was something seriously wrong in his first class of the day, History of Magic. Lady Alina, who taught the class, was a lot older then Harry had thought she was, her face was covered with wrinkles that were not noticeable from a distance, but she also managed to make the class so interesting that Harry found himself actually enjoying it for the first time; they were discussing the current state of affairs, which had led to the creation of the school in such a remote location. Harry was listening intently, thinking about how very little things had changed and how similar this Dark Lord Zastro sounded to Voldemort, when he felt a burning sensation on his left forearm under the bandages that covered it. He winced but said nothing, continuing to take his notes and to even ask a few curious questions as if nothing was wrong. Lady Alina noticed a fleeting glimpse of pain on Harry's face and resolved to tell Godric about it as soon as she got a free moment as he had asked all teachers to do.

In between History of Magic and Charms, which was his second class of the day, Harry ducked into an unused classroom, after telling Christlina and Will that he had forgotten something. He sat in a corner and pulled up the left sleeve of his robes to examine the bandage beneath. There was a trace of bright red blood on the white linen of the bandage that covered the still unhealed wound on his arm. Harry suppressed a shudder as the wound beneath the bandage continued to send pulsing agony up his arm. Harry felt hot tears fall down his cheeks as he unwound the linen from his arm. Looking down, trying not to touch the wound, he saw a still raw looking patch of skin on his otherwise healed arm. Black as midnight and outlined in green was a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, a bolt of lightening making a slash across the skull's forehead. The Dark Sigil was still bleeding sluggishly as it had since Voldemort had magically branded it onto Harry's arm. Harry grimaced as he examined the mark closer, noticing that it still did not seem to heal. He tried to stem the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm him again but they rose to the surface and he found himself reliving the entire episode in his mind.

"You will join me, Potter. You have no choice but to embrace the Darkness within you. The Light can no longer save you," Voldemort hissed inside his mind with all power of Dark Magic behind his voice.

Harry's body was wracked with so much pain that he was only just aware of his surroundings, as he lay before Voldemort unable to even move. His scar burned, sending lances of sharp pain through his already overtaxed system. He tried to rise to his feet but as unable to. He settled for raising himself to his elbows. His green eyes became for a moment hard and as full of fury as they had ever been before.

"I will not dishonour my family by joining with you…" he said in a broken voice, which nevertheless was firm and sure. 

_ _

"You misunderstand me, Potter. This is not a request; it is a fact. You will join me. I have found a way…" Voldemort's eyes glinted evilly.

_ _

_Harry shook his head, his eyes still full of defiance._

_ _

_"Never!"_

_ _

_"We shall see, Potter." Voldemort rose from his throne and walked purposely toward Harry._

_ _

_Harry was frozen in place. He could seem to move or think. He felt Voldemort's cold hand touch him and the pain he was experiencing doubled. He felt himself falling and the room spun darkly before him. When he awoke, he was laying on his back with his left arm stretched out. Voldemort stood above him with a malicious smirk on his face. His wand was pointed directly at Harry's heart, which seemed to be trying to escape from his chest. His eyes flicked over Harry as he lay there helpless and then the wand tip was pointed at his exposed left arm. Voldemort spoke an incantation but Harry couldn't make out the words because instantly he felt more pain then he had ever felt before. His body went ridged and he broke out into a sweat. Then he passed out again but was forced awake. The pain soon became unbearable and after that all Harry could do was scream. When the pain finally subsided to a dull ache, Harry looked over and saw, glowing an evil green and still raw, the most unusual Dark Mark he'd ever seen._

_ _

_"The Dark Sigil…the sign of the second Heir…" he thought he heard Voldemort mutter. "You carry his mark. You will be turned, Potter, as has been foretold. There will soon be no way you can resist."_

_ _

The words Voldemort had spoken echoed in Harry's head as he stared at the wound on his arm. His body shook in remembered pain and he found that he had broken into a cold sweat. He wiped his face off with the edge of his sleeve and was just beginning to wrap the bandage around the wound when Will entered the room.

"Lady Rowena sent me to fetch you…she was concerned for your safety. Come, we mustn't remain here…" Will paused and his eyes widened. 

Harry looked at his arm and realized that a bit of the mark was still showing. Will knelt beside Harry and took the remaining length of linen and removed the bandage.

"Here, allow me to bandage your wound properly for you." Will's eyes examined the wound and they widened farther. "Ye have been branded…I have never seen such a mark before."

Harry grimaced and looked Will in the eyes before saying: "You wouldn't have seen it before, Will. I have a very powerful enemy who is after my life and has been since I was a baby. This mark is His to remind me of his power over my life."

Will nodded in sympathy and saw the shadows that flickered in Harry's eyes. In body, Harry seemed to be 15 summers old but he looked years older in his eyes. Harry released a shuddering sigh and looked into Will's eyes again, trying to gage the other boy's reaction to this news. He merely began to carefully cover the wound and watched Harry's eyes to see that he wasn't hurting him.

"We'd better get back to class, " Harry said, getting up from the floor and heading for the door. 

Will lead the way and soon Harry found himself in Lady Rowena's classroom. He could tell she was concerned by his late arrival but she merely motioned him to a seat near to Christlina and the other Gryffindors before continuing her lesson.

"There are two types of Shield Charms that wizard can use when in a dueling situation," she said and Harry listened carefully. "The first or Primus Shield, which I showed you last week, is used mainly to guard against minor hexes and curses that might be created as a distraction that your foe can use to his advantage. You have all mastered the Primus Shield."

She paused and glanced briefly at Harry who nodded to indicate that he had also learned that spell in his own time.

"The second or Secundus Shield I am about to show you is more difficult to manage because it relies solely on the strength of the wizard casting it. It is used to block and sometimes deflect the more powerful curses. You perform this charm by…"

Harry's mind began to wander back to the wound on his arm and to his time of imprisonment. He was trying to remember any small detail of that particular incident, anything that might help him fight off the pain. Something important was nagging at the back of his brain but he couldn't remember what it was. He was so deep in thought that he failed to hear Lady Rowena call his name and was only jolted back to reality when Christlina tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry, Lady Rowena has called upon you," she said softly.

Harry started and then looked at Lady Rowena, suddenly remembering where he was.

"Er…Yes, my lady."

She motioned him to the front of the room and, nervously he walked to her.

"Please show for us the Primus Shield Charm."

Harry looked up at her in dismay.

"I…I can't…I don't have a wand, my lady. Mine was…" Harry's eyes misted over and he left his sentence unfinished.

She smiled at him and replied: "You can do it without the wand, I think."

The students' eyes grew round with surprise and Harry could hear the Slytherins muttering in the corner of the room. Looking at Lady Rowena, who smiled at him, Harry took a deep steadying breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and looked at the others.

"Shieldus!" he said in a quiet but firm voice.

Immediately, a shield of bright silver light surrounded him. The class looked on, astounded by the glowing shield. No one else had a Primus Shield that was as strong as Harry's and many of the Gryffindors found themselves wondering why Harry needed such a strong shield. 

"Now, I want you to try to change this shield into the Secundus Shield."

Harry grimaced. His head was beginning to hurt but he did as instructed.

"Protectrus Shieldus!"

The silvery shield around Harry turned bright gold shot through with silver and scarlet. The class applauded and Harry dropped both shields. They fell as glittering silver and gold stars, shimmering for a moment in the air, before disappearing from sight. He had only been able to hold onto the shield for a moment but he had done it and all without a wand. Smiling faintly, and with a much lighter heart, Harry returned to his seat as the other members of the class were called forward to try the two spells with varying degrees of success. Most of the students appeared to be able to cast both spells, although there were a few who could not seem to manage the second spell very well. Among these was Raoul Malfoy, who seemed angry that Harry could do it when he couldn't. Harry noticed that both of his shields were stronger than anyone else's but he was at a loss to explain how or even why this was true.

After lunch, Harry waited in the Entrance Hall as Sir Godric had asked him to so that they could get his wand. He seemed to have no afternoon lessons, although the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors did. He heard Christlina and Will complaining loudly about a Potions test they were to have. Harry had wished them good luck on the exam and was now waiting for Sir Godric to finish talking to Lady Alina. To pass the time, he began to look at the paintings, which hung in the Entrance Hall. One was of a clear lake with snow-capped mountains surrounding it. It was a very peaceful painting and Harry spent several minutes watching the clouds in the painting sail over the mountains to become reflections in the lake. Another painting held a wooded glade in which golden baby unicorns and their silver parents frolicked. A third held a castle complete with knights on horseback with lances shining in the sun, one of which looked suspiciously like Sir Cadogan. Yet it was the final painting that held Harry's attention the longest. It was of a garden, which surrounded a small cottage. There was a stream running nearby and birds flying through the air. The location seemed familiar to Harry but he wasn't sure why. Suddenly he was extremely homesick. He was still looking at the painting when Sir Godric came into the Hall and walked over to him. Harry reached out to touch the painting, a look of longing on his face.

"My home," Sir Godric said and Harry jumped.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry said in a faraway and misty voice, looking at Sir Godric, suddenly understanding why it seemed familiar to him. "That's what this place is called in my time. I was born there and lived there with my parents until the night Voldemort came and destroyed our happiness. Someday I must return there to finish what was started that night."

Harry turned to Sir Godric, a mixture of pain, grief and resolve in his eyes.

"I promise you that we will do our best to send you back home but you are still to weak to make the journey. Any attempt now could very well kill you and that would not help."

Harry nodded to show that he understood but that didn't stop the sudden wave of fear in his heart nor still the longing to return to his time. 

"Let us first get you a new wand and then we shall…" but whatever Sir Godric was going to say was interrupted by a hiss of pain from Harry.

The Dark Sigil on Harry's arm was beginning to send wave after wave of sharp pain up his arm and his scar was sending searing agony though his head. He slumped to the floor, his head clutched in his hands and his eyes screwed shut. Harry saw not the Entrance Hall before him but instead a horrible, nightmare vision of a Hogwarts torn by war and surrounded on all sides by Death Eaters and Dementors. He watched as all his friends were tortured and then killed. He swayed on his knees. Sir Godric knelt at his side and heard him mutter _No…please…not them _before Harry fainted still muttering to himself. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head and he screamed. Looking blindly at Sir Godric, he opened his mouth and said in a voice not his own:

"The evil walks abroad again. The Heir must return and soon or the Light will be extinguished forever.


	15. Phoenix Ascending

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Fifteen: Phoenix Ascending

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All the usual ones apply. I only own those characters that are not property of JKR. This chapter is dedicated to my uncle who recently died after a long illness. _There are broken hearts we can mend/Through the music that we've learned to love again. Julian Lennon._William,may your music remain ever in my heart. The song at the end is from _Secret Garden _again and is called _Nocturne. _

You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago…by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from the prying muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.

# Professor Binns

_Chapter 9_

_Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

_ _

Never wondered how you got that mark in yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh-took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house even-but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry.

## Hagrid

_Chapter 4_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

Voices surrounded him. He felt something soft under his back and something warm surrounded him making him wish he could continue to sleep but he knew he had to warn them. They were all in very grave danger and only he knew what that danger was and when it would strike. The Dementors were only part of it…there was a more insidious plot afoot; one that could destroy the wizarding world as they knew it.In vain he tried to open his eyes but they stubbornly refused to move. The voices around him grew loud then soft again as if the speakers had moved closer and then farther away. 

"_I…must…warn,"_ he thought fiercely to himself, desperately trying to awaken by the force of his will alone.

He felt his eyelids flutter this time but they still refused to open even the smallest amount. He felt himself sliding back into the black pit that was unconsciousness.

_"NO!"_ he thought savagely. "_I_ **_will_** _warn them this time_. **_This _**_time I will not fail. __I do this for **her**."_

The image of a cloud of red hair framing a face from which two startling green eyes peered up at him floated to the surface of his mind. He had to wake up for Lily. He had promised Lily at her grave that he would do whatever he could to protect her son. He couldn't abandon his oath to her memory even if that oath was only made for love of her and not the child. It was all that gave him strength now. He felt his eyelids flutter again and heard a faint moan escape from his mouth. With all the force of will he could muster, he forced his eyes to continue to open and soon found himself staring up at the gray ceiling of the Hospital Wing. The ceiling was blurry but Snape didn't care for it was enough to tell him where he was and that he had somehow survived the Dark Lord's torture, torture he was surely not meant to have survived. He tried to sit up but as he did so a hiss of pain escaped from his mouth and then a crowd of people appeared near him as if they had Apparated there.

"Lay back down, Severus," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled dimly and he smile the ghost of a smile at Snape. "You have been badly injured and need to rest."

Snape looked around his bed and found Ron, Hermione, Remus, Sirius and a gratified Madame Pomfrey all looking down at him, surprise etched on their faces.

"He…Headmaster…" Snape said, his voice very faint to his ears. "I…."

"There is no need for that…The Memorus spell worked. I know all about the Dementors and the attack. We have prepared already."

"No…more…Harry…spell…Timeportal…Voldemort," Severus found that each word was costing him. Even now the room was growing foggy but he had to tell them all he knew. "Slytherin…waits."

"Calm youself, please Severus…"

"Trap…all a trap…Harry and you…must not…cannot…" Snape's eyes became unfocused and his breathing became shallower. "Rescue…find key…too late…all lost." 

Snape slipped back into an unconscious state, leaving the others looking at one another in confusion, a sudden cold swoop of fear enveloping their hearts.

~

Harry's eyes snapped open and he found that he was laying on the stone floor of the Entrance Hall with Sir Godric's concerned face hovering over him.

"Wha…what happened, " Harry sat up and looked around but the Entrance Hall was empty. There were no bodies, no blood and no Dementors. 

"You had a vision, a very strong one, " Sir Godric said, carefully helping Harry to rise.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it of the vision he'd seen. It had seemed so real for a moment. He could still feel the cold and fear that the Dementors carried with them wherever they went. He shivered wrapping his arms around himself as he rose to his feet, a sudden chill moving through him and a faint, distant ache in his scar.

"Maybe you should rest…" Sir Godric eyed him with concern, seeing Harry wince as the pain in his scar intensified for a moment before vanishing as completely as if it had never been.

"No…I'm fine." Harry brushed off his robes and began to walk toward the front doors, as Sir Godric's eyes followed him.

Seeing that Harry was in earnest, Sir Godric followed him. Soon they were out the double doors and across the drawbridge to the grounds of the school. Harry barely glanced at the shimmering fish in the moat or at the dark and distant trees as he made his way to the outer gate that marked the boundary of the grounds. Here he paused and waited for Sir Godric to catch up to him, having no clear idea how they would be getting to Diagon Alley. Godric stopped at the gate and looked into Harry's eyes before saying anything farther. He saw determination, excitement and some other emotion that he couldn't put a name to reflected in Harry's gaze. Something was driving Harry to make this trip though he was plainly shaken by something in his vision and probably was in need of rest. Godric shook his head inwardly, knowing that nothing would change his heir's mind once he had determined a course of action.

_"He is much like me," _Godric thought. _"Always thinking of others and never of self alone. Duty and honour coming before all else."_

_ _

Godric smiled a faint smile and gazed out beyond the gate to the wild forest beyond it. For a moment two deer gazed back at him from the clearing, their eyes calm and unafraid. Then something startled them and they bounded back under the cover of the trees. Sir Godric looked around but saw nothing that could have frightened the deer, and then he turned back to Harry.

"When we pass through this gate you will feel as if something is pulling you away. Do not be afraid, it is just a Transportal Spell that we have placed on the gate. The spell will take you directly to Diagon Alley. I will wait for you there."

Harry nodded and glanced at the seemingly innocent gate, his face reflecting the fear he felt for a moment. Sir Godric opened the gate and Harry could see the forest beyond it, looking quite ordinary in the late afternoon sun. There was a shaft of bright sunlight shimmering in a nearby clearing and a soft breeze was carrying the sound of birdsong to him. He smiled, caught once again by the wild beauty of the place. He took a deep breath of clear, fresh air, his eyes closed, remembering a place very like this, his home of a little over a year in Godric's Hollow. The air there had smelled like this. He could remember a small stream that sparkled like a silver and gold ribbon outside his window and a garden full of flowers and tall plants that he liked to hide behind in his childish attempts at scaring his parents. He smiled in remembrance and then, for the first time, he remembered something else, the sound of barely restrained panic and fear in their voices when he pulled one of these "disappearances".Now he understood fully for the first time why their voices were full of fear. It was Voldemort who had put that fear in their lives, Voldemort who had taken so much already and who stood poised to take still more from him, exacting his revenge on Harry through those closest to him, until he was left alone.

_"I won't allow it!" _he thought, as the hands inside his robes balled into fists. _"I will find a way…" _The thought was left incomplete as fear and the sense that time was running out moved through him.

He opened his eyes and glanced at Sir Godric, the feeling of urgency once more overcoming him. Together the two wizards of separate ages, one young and one old, passed through Hogwarts outer gate, neither one realizing that the fate of two worlds rested on their shoulders.

~

Lord Salazar Slytherin stood at the window, watching the pair that stood framed by the gateposts.

### "Meddlesome old fool," Slytherin's eyes narrowed as the two completely disappeared from sight as the gate's spell was activated. "He thinks he will be the victor. He will soon learn better. Soon I will have power to rival that of the might and proud Gryffindor."

Slytherin turned his back on the bright light streaming from the window and crossed the room to the desk in a shadowed corner. Salazar sat in an ornate throne-like leather chair on the other side of the desk. He picked up a black-feathered quill and began to make some notations on a large roll of parchment that was sitting before him. He did this for several moments before he set the quill aside and read over what he had written, an evil smile playing about his mouth. He rolled the parchment up and sealed it with a signet ring of intertwining serpents on his left hand. He was tired of taking the orders of a beggar and a fool. Gryffindor had tainted purity of the school by allowing half bloods and those not of magical descent enter the school, claiming that they were just as good as those of pure blood. Salazar knew better. It was a proven fact that his students were stronger in power then those of the other houses. The time had come to put an end to Gryffindor's foolish prattle and fate had seen fit to provide him with the perfect instrument with which to exact his revenge for not only in this time but also for all time. Slytherin's grin widened and his eyes lit up with an insane, evil glow.

"_I will cleanse this school of all the filth,"_ he thought as he rose from his chair and stood in front of the fireplace, gazing into the flames that danced there. _"I will have my revenge on you, Sir Godric. You will die and at the hands of someone you least expect."_

_ _

Slytherin laughed softly and threw some powder into the fire, which blazed up still higher and turned green. He watched the green flames for a moment and muttered "Knockturn Alley" before stepping to the flames and vanishing instantly. The eyes watched him vanish from sight and a faint, cold laughter could be heard for an instant before the eyes disappeared from view.

One thousand years in the future, cold laughter echoed through the halls of the Fortress of Azkaban. His plan was working far better then he could have ever hoped for.

~

Harry landed with a thump on the dusty, cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. He shook his head to clear it and saw Sir Godric waiting for him nearby. Harry got up and dusted himself off before going to meet him. Harry looked around curiously, remembering his first trip to Diagon Alley. He knew the Diagon Alley of his time from one end to the other. The only two buildings he recognized here were Ollivanders, which looked as it always did and Gringotts, which stood, gleaming white in the afternoon sun. They had begun to walk toward the bank and, as they did so, Harry was reminded of something he had not considered but was nevertheless of importance now that they had reached their destination.

"Sir, where am I going to get money?" asked Harry, as he watched the doors of Gringotts getting closer with each step they took.

Sir Godric stopped walking and looked down at him as if the question was of little importance. Then, seeing Harry's serious and worried expression, he smiled. 

"From the Potter family vault," he replied as if this should have been something obvious to Harry.

"But, sir…." Harry began, feeling that this was somewhat like robbery.

"Have no fear. You are blood and they would not fail to help one of their own if they knew you were here.I will see that any money spent by you is restored to its proper place."

Still feeling guilty about it, Harry followed Sir Godric up the marble steps and through the two sets of doors that led inside the bank. Once inside, Harry encountered another change. There were the usual groups of goblin clerks but they worked alongside human ones. They all greeted Sir Godric warmly and they were quickly led down to the vaults, which were down a long, winding spiral staircase. Apparently the Potter vault had moved over the years because Harry found that they hadn't seemed to go very far underground before arriving at it. There was a coat of arms over the door to the vault which was divided into four panels: a griffin with its wings outstretched stood in one, a rune of the letter _P_ with the rising sun behind it, a rampant unicorn with a laurel wreath on it's horn and a rampant lion with a wreath of holly around it's neck. Harry studied the coat of arms a moment and thought back to what Raoul Malfoy had said about his family. It was obvious to Harry that Malfoy had lied to him and that his family was wizarding nobility after all. 

The goblin put an ornate silver key from the ring of them he carried into the lock and the door slowly swung open. A soft light shone down from the ceiling of the vault and Harry could see mounds of coins and jewels within the chamber. Harry looked back at Sir Godric and saw a smile spreading across his face. 

"This is your vault…" he said, surprised by his outburst."You're one of us…A Potter, I mean."

This was a statement, not a question and Sir Godric smiled. 

"My mother was a Potter, God rest her soul," Sir Godric looked heavenward a moment, his eyes bright.

"Then it's true…all of it," Harry said quietly, stunned by the fact. "I'm related to you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat and then began to race. That had to be why Voldemort was after him and had been for years. He hadn't really believed it when Voldemort had told him during his captivity but here he had proof of it from someone he could trust. If this was true, Harry wondered how much of what Voldemort had told him was true.

Sir Godric watched Harry's thoughtful expression for several minutes as the news sank in. Harry's mind was full of unanswered questions, questions he had kept inside since the encounter with Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts. Finally, he had a part of the answers he had been searching for. He looked up at Sir Godric, the light from the inside of the vault making his face seem to glow with a faint golden light, and Sir Godric saw something within Harry's green eyes that he had not seen there since he had meet his future heir: he saw hope glowing there. The grief and pain was driven away and now only hope dwelled there. His spirit was at long last beginning to heal and Sir Godric rejoiced in his heart as Harry smiled the first real smile he had in months.

"_Praises be to the Lord. He has broken the spell at last." _Godric thought as he and Harry left the Potter's vault.

Harry could never quite explain the feeling he was experiencing in that moment when he first believed he was a descendent of Gryffindor. Suddenly his heart seemed to rise in his chest and his spirit with it. He felt happier then he had ever remembered feeling in his life. It felt as if all the best experiences at Hogwarts had been wrapped into one neat package. He could feel his spirit and body grow instantly stronger, like there was nothing he couldn't face and beat. All grief and fears became less intense. They were still a part of him but they no longer seemed to rule over his heart or to have any control over him. His heart was light and his will was as strong as it had ever been. He entered Ollivanders dusty shop in extremely high spirits and not even Mr Ollivander's odd silver-eyed stare didn't rattle him. 

The 1095 incarnation of Mr Ollivander was a good deal younger than the one Harry knew but his eyes were eerily similar. Harry stood before him while Sir Godric hovered in the background, quite willing that Harry should deal with this on his own. Mr Ollivander's pale eyes stared into Harry's own and they widened in shock.

"Most unusual…highly unusual…Mr Potter." Ollivander peered closer at the lightening scar on Harry's forehead, although he didn't touch it this time. "You should not be here…you do not belong in this place and time. There will be consequences…grave consequences. Still let me see what we may do to help you."

He went to the shelves full of boxes, which Harry knew contained wands, and began to look around. Harry could feel a faint hum of power coming from all around him and he closed his eyes. As he did so, he sent his mind questing for the only wand in the place meant for him. He was surprised to feel his old wand, or one very like it, somewhere nearby.

_"But that can't be…my wand is gone…destroyed…"_

_ _

Mr Ollivander set a very old and battered wooden box before Harry and opened it. Nestled inside, on a velvet cushion was a long, slender wand made of holly. Harry reached a hand toward it and lifted it out, noticing as he did so that this wand was slightly longer than his old one but otherwise identical to the one that had been destroyed by Wormtail. Swishing it through the air, his eyes on its tip and the air was instantly filled with a bright shower of scarlet and gold sparks.

"Fourteen inches, holly containing one phoenix feather," intoned Ollivander, his eyes wide with surprise. "One of a pair fashioned for the two greatest wizards of their age…The Dark Lord…Highest of the Dark Wizards to be called Voldemort…and the Lord of Light…Highest of the Order of Light…The Phoenix reborn of the ashes…" Ollivander's voice trailed off and he bowed at Harry.

~

Harry was still in a state of shock when he returned to Hogwarts that evening. He had never fully understood his role in the conflict until now. He ate his dinner in silence, scarcely paying attention to the chatter going on around him. It seemed so trivial and unimportant to him now. Several times during the meal Christlina and Will tried to draw him into conversation but he didn't seem to hear them. He seemed to be in a world all his own and there was nothing anyone could do that held his attention for more than a second. Malfoy used Harry's distant, vacant expression to comment on the sad state the school was in when they would allow someone who was most certainly mad to enter its hallowed halls. Harry said nothing but went on eating in complete silence. Christlina, Will and the other Gryffindors looked worriedly at Harry who didn't notice their concern.

After several days, Harry's spirit came back down to earth and he felt like an ordinary wizard again, although he knew he wasn't quite the same anymore. Something had happened in Ollivanders that had changed him inside. He spirit had been restored to him and seemed as strong as ever. Only one thing marred his seeming good spirits: he was still feeling very tired although he appeared to be getting more than enough sleep and even though Lady Helga's potion was healing him inside. He was at a loss of how to explain why. He'd also seemed to have stopped having nightmare warnings. He was seeing some things in his dreams but they came in flashes rather than in vivid and clear images. This frightened him. Never before had he been without this early warning system and he was beginning to wonder if something or someone was blocking it on purpose. 

He sat in the back of Divination, wishing for the class to be over so that he could go out for a bit of fresh air, when Lady Leila came over to the table where he was sitting with Christlina and Will. Her blue eyes were reflecting sorrow so deep that Harry knew what was coming.

_'Oh, not her too. I'm sick of everyone predicting my death." _Harry fumed as he looked up at her with what he hoped was a normal expression.

They were studying predictions based on a persons magical aura and Harry wondered what she had seen in his. He knew that she was a "true seer" one gifted in the art of Divination but still he had his doubts, as he had never seen but one true prediction in his life.

_"Professor Trelawney's prediction came true didn't it?" _said a voice in the back of his brain that he tried in vain to ignore as he listened with apparent attention that became real attention the moment Lady Leila's blue eyes gazed into his own

"Enemies seek to surround and destroy you, young Phoenix before you can come into full power. Be wary of false friends who claim to give their aid to you. Your friends are in moral danger for Serpent's Darkness hovers near your soul. The next month will determine the fate of not only your soul but of two worlds. Be wary of the mirror and the sword. They are your enemies that would lead you to Darkness. Remember the sacrifice that was given, not once but twice. The answers you seek lay at the place of thy first meeting. Seek for the Phoenix's Staff lost in ages past and the silver blade of Sorrow." 

The class grew completely silent and remained so long after she had finished speaking. Harry's looked into Lady Leila's eyes and nodded before lowering his gaze back to his parchment, realizing he had just witnessed another "true" prediction but not understanding its meaning.

"Phoenix's Staff…Sorrow's Blade…?"

He thought about what Lady Leila had said all through dinner and as he got ready for bed that night. Long into the night, he thought about it, trying to figure out the meaning of the words as he stared up at the canopy over his bed. His eyes grew heavy and eventually he fell into a deep sleep. Much later in the night, Harry had a vivid dream of a silver dagger that seemed to cry silver tears, a wooden, rune covered staff that glowed with a faint scarlet light and his mother's voice singing softly.

_Though the darkness lay_

_It will give way_

_When the dark night_

_Delivers the day._


	16. Calm Before a Storm

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Sixteen: Calm Before the Storm

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this story and all recognizable characters belong to Ms Rowling and her publishers. Thank you all for continuing to give me such wonderful reviews. It makes me glad to know that so many of you enjoy the story. I hope I can continue to provide you with a great saga. I can now say with some certainty that there will be a sequel or two to this one. Please feel free to review, although it is not required. HML

The dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have.

# Professor Remus Lupin

_Chapter 10_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

_Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me._

_ _

# Professor Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody

_Chapter 14_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of F ire_

_ _

Voldemort paced the west tower of Azkaban Fortress deep in thought. His feet made no sound on the carpeted floor over which he was walking, although his deep black velvet robes swished as he paced. Once in a while he stopped his almost frantic pacing to stare into the mirror at the images of Harry that appeared within its silver surface, a calculating and evil look in his eye.

"The Dagger of Sorrow and the Staff of the Phoenix…" his eyes turned inward seeking a way he could use this information to his advantage. "Two of three weapons of the Light…"

He knew the legend of course; everyone in the wizarding world knew it. Parents had told their children this story for years, especially in times of Darkness. It was said that there would come a time of Great Darkness, which at its height would be driven away by the Highest Lord of Light: the Phoenix. This Great Lord would be one who had survived a deadly curse but who still bore the mark of Darkness, which would put his powers in balance until the day of choice. He was the one destined to recover the three lost weapons: the wand of Light, the Dagger of Sorrow or Sacrifice and the Staff of the Phoenix, which he would then carry into the final battle. He would drive away the Darkness for all time by finding and wielding these three weapons.

Voldemort watched as Harry walked through the corridors of the Hogwarts of the past, seemingly in good spirits. Voldemort's eyes narrowed and even as he watched he could detect a difference in the magical aura that wrapped itself around Harry like a cloak. There was less darkness in it then before as the power of Light began to slowly grow stronger. Voldemort also noticed that the final protections around Harry seemed to be restoring themselves. Their scarlet light was growing brighter and it was only a matter of time before they would be fully restored. Voldemort knew then that his time was running out. If he was going to make his move in both times it had to be soon. The image in the mirror shifted to reveal a split image of two wizards both masked and cloaked. 

"The time has come. Follow the orders that I have sent you and you will both be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."

The two wizards bowed as their images dissolved to be replaced with another wizard whose face was hidden under the shadow of his hood.

"You know what to do…" Voldemort's eyes became alight with fire. "See that you do not fail, much depends on you."

The cloaked wizard's eyes gleamed as if he didn't like taking orders from anyone but he merely nodded at Voldemort, saying nothing.  
  


"Now we shall see…"

~

Snape thrashed around on the bed in the midst of a fever dream, which was full of pain and death. Sweat was pouring off him and his bed was drenched with it. Madame Pomfrey had tried everything she could to reduce the fever but it raged higher with each passing hour. Snape was muttering incoherently in his unconscious state. He talked of Harry, a deadly trap Harry was in and of Slytherin. He cried out constantly for Dumbledore, begging him not to do something. 

"Headmaster…I'm afraid he is getting worse. There seems to be nothing that helps him. Every remedy and spell that I have tried has just made his condition worse." 

Dumbledore looked down at Snape, his eyes sad and his face set. 

"Maybe a potion made of Phoenix Tears mixed with Unicorn Horn. We have got to try everything we can to save him, Poppy."

Madame Pomfrey looked at the Headmaster and nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I will try, Headmaster, but…"

"I know there is very little that hasn't already been done. All I ask is that you try." Dumbledore's face was grim. 

Madame Pomfrey nodded again and watched as Dumbledore left the room, deep in thought.

There seemed to be no end to Voldemort's evil and nothing they had tried thus far had seemed to stop his rampage. He was growing in strength daily, slowly regaining the places that had fallen to him years before and now he, Dumbledore, had lost his one contact inside Voldemort's ranks. Several places had been attack at one time and the few aurors who were loyal to Dumbledore had been hard pressed to put up any kind of resistance. Several of them had been killed in duels with Death Eaters. He had tried to keep hope alive in everyone's' hearts but how could he continue to do so when he was fast losing all hope himself. There was only one chance, one hope left for them but he was trapped in the past with no guarantee that he would ever be able to return.

"_If Harry is lost…if there was no way to bring him back…all was lost. No! I will not believe that."_

Dumbledore, McGonagall and several other powerful wizards had had combined their powers in an attempted to pull Harry forward through time but they had been unsuccessful. They had been blocked by some kind of shield but whether friend had cast the shield or foe they were unable to tell. Harry would have to return under his own power and with aid from the founders if he was to return at all. 

"Please…let him return before it's too late for us all." 

Dumbledore passed through the Entrance Hall and among the students, who were talking in low voices about the attacks and Harry. They noticed the Headmaster's preoccupied expression and moved out of his way. The Gryffindors had gathered in a large group at the foot of the stairs and they watched as Dumbledore climbed the marble staircase to return to his office. The grim and sorrowful expression he wore struck fear into their hearts and they wondered if there was any chance for Harry to return or any chance for them to restore peace. 

~

"Fly?" Harry stared at Christlina as she handed the broom to him. 

After several weeks, Lady Helga had pronounced him to be fit and had lifted all restrictions on his activities. Harry stared at the broom that Christlina held out to him as if it were some kind of trap. 

"Lady Helga said you were fine now. What could be the harm?" Will's face broke into a grin as he looked down at Harry from his own broom, which was hovering a few inches above Harry.

Harry couldn't deny that he was feeling much better in body and spirit, if still somewhat tired. He looked up at will and tried to keep his voice level.

"I can't…" 

Will noticed the look of fear that was briefly reflected in Harry's eyes before it was masked. It suddenly occurred to him that something must have happened to Harry whist he was flying. Will caught Christlina's eye and made a small movement with his hand telling her that he wanted to talk to her in private later. Harry was still staring at the broom.

"Nothing will happen, I swear on my honour," Christlina said, looking into Harry's eyes. "My word is my bond."

Harry eyed the broom dubiously and was on the verge of saying _no_ again when his heart was suddenly filled with the overwhelming need to be in the air again. Maybe if he flew he'd be able to sort out a few things that had been troubling him for several days. He took the broom from Christlina and she smiled. He grinned back, glad to feel a broom in his hand even if the broom was not his Firebolt. Harry mounted and lifted off steadily. Soon he was circling Will lazily with a grin on his face. He did a few circles and then began to rise higher feeling his spirits rise with the broom. After several feet he went into a steep dive that caused people below him to scream. He smiled again and then flew off to think for a while.

Will and Christlina watched him as he flew and dove through the air, grins on their faces. They had never seen anything like it nor could they remember having seen Harry smile or look so happy and relaxed before. Will floated to the ground to stand with Christlina, who was watching Harry fly, shading her eyes with her hand. She stopped watching Harry and grinned at Will, who grinned back.

"What did you wish to talk about?" she asked, noticing that Will's face had sobered.

"Harry," Will said as he watched Harry do another dive.

"Something is…" Christlina paused, not sure of how to continue. 

"He is preoccupied and seems fearful."

"You do not think his foe will return?" 

" He is still afraid of something and he has a mark on his arm that gives him pain. I have seen him wince and put a hand over it."

Christlina looked up at where Harry was, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was trying to remember something she had read. Something about someone…with scars such as Harry had. 

"He is my heir…" a quiet voice behind them said.

Both students started and turned to face Sir Godric who was watching Harry fly, a faint smile on his face.

"Your heir?" said Will looking confused.

Christlina looked confused as well. They both knew that Gryffindor had no children.

"Harry Potter is my future heir." 

"Future heir?" Will was more confused then he had been a moment before.

"He is not of this time, then?" Christlina asked, suddenly understanding why Harry didn't seem to fit in with them.

"No, he is of the future, sent here by a powerful spell cast by his enemy, who is even now trying to ensnare him. I fear for his safety even in this time," Sir Godric turned to them, with a look of seriousness they had never seen before. 

"Why did he not tell us?" asked Will, who meet Sir Godric's serious look with one of his own.

"He fears for the safety of all. Everything he has been through is worse then you are even able to understand in this time of peace. In his time there is war afoot and he has already lost much. His enemy is powerful and seeks his demise. Harry has seen much that I hope you never have to see in your lifetimes, " Sir Godric's eyes held such pain and sorrow that Will and Christlina wondered what Harry had seen. "I want you and Will to guard him as long as he is here with your lives if need be. He must be protected at all cost."

Will and Christlina bowed at Sir Godric.

"We will be attempting to perform the Tempus Spell over the Yule holiday. If it is successful then he will return to his time. I need you to stay here over the holiday to guard him until the spell is performed."

"We would be honoured to help, " they said solemnly, as they watched Harry souring high above them. He waved and they smiled and waved back.

"It is good to see him smile again after so much pain and suffering. Remember what I told you but do not let him know you are protecting him."

Christlina and Will bowed again and watched as Sir Godric bowed back and then returned to the castle. They looked at one another and then up at Harry.

"It appears there is more to this then we guessed," she said as she watched Harry begin to decent from the sky.

"It would seem so," said Will with a thoughtful expression as he watched Harry dive once again. 

~

Harry soured through the air, his troubles for a moment forgotten. The air rushed by his ears and he found his ability to fly was still intact if a bit rusty. He executed several turns and rolls in the air before he gained several feet of altitude to go into a steep dive that made his heart pound with excitement. He grinned having forgotten how much flying made him feel alive and that all was right with the world. He flew through the air as fast as this broom would allow, which wasn't really all that fast but fast enough for him. Gaining higher altitude again, he moved in lazy circles, enjoying the feeling of freedom and the sunlight warm on his back. He could see the others and Sir Godric below him but he did nothing, wanting to stay in the air now that he was once again there. 

For a long time Harry thought of nothing but the wind whistling past him and the sunlight, like warm fingers on his back, but then something forced his mind from nothingness and onto his plight. The flight of a bird disrupted his reverie and its course was one that would intersect his own. Then, as they passed each other in midair, the bird changed direction and landed on Harry's broom, staring up at him before making a bow and then flying off. Harry blinked as the bird launched itself back into the air, twittering about the heir. An image from one of his dreams played itself in his mind and he saw himself as a child on his father's broom, several birds hovering around him and bowing to him. 

Harry blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear it but he found that he could no longer lose himself in daydreams. His thoughts turned to his friends and Voldemort. He had to do something…he had to return to his own time and soon. He had the feeling that things were not going well and that time was rapidly running out for them all. As he flew in lazy circles, he felt as if unfriendly eyes were watching him and he looked carefully around without appearing to. He saw nothing and no one watching him except Christlina, Will and Sir Godric. He tried to shake off the feeling that something was not right but it refused to go away. Some inner voice was trying to warn him of something but without his dreams he had no clue what the warning was about. _Was the voice speaking of a danger in 1995 or was the danger of which it spoke closer at hand? Was there an enemy here in 1095 that was lurking nearby, waiting for a chance to strike at him? Could Voldemort be attempting to eliminate him here by controlling another?_

Harry pondered these questions, trying to figure out what would be gained by someone in this timeframe if they attempted to remove him. He was no longer the naïve eleven year old wizard in training he had been when his battle with Voldemort had started anew. The last two years had taught him that things were not often what they seemed as well as how all warnings, no matter how vague, should be heeded. The last several months had shown him that Voldemort's cruelty knew no bounds and that he had never had any remorse for the evil he did. It had also taught him that Voldemort would use anyone and anything to get at him. 

_"Could he be trying to use someone here and why did he feel that there was something going on that he was only barely_ _aware of? Why are the dreams that were once so vivid now so many unrelated fragments? Is someone trying to block my gift?" _Harry thought as he waved at the others and flew to the ground. 

Will and Christlina smiled up at him and he couldn't help but grin back, even with such weighty thoughts on his mind. They had grown to be such good friends in the few months he had known them and he knew they would become the best of friends of he was forced to remain here. He was glad of this but he missed his other friends too and knew that he would have to return to them soon.

"Thanks for letting me borrow this," he said to Christlina as he handed it back to her.

"T'was nothing."

"Wasn't that Sir Godric I saw with you?" 

"Aye…he wishes to see you in his office now," Will said, giving Harry an odd look.

"What's going on…did he say what it was about?" Harry's face paled and he was suddenly nervous.

"About sending you home…" Will began, but Christlina interrupted him.

"Back to your own time." 

Harry looked shocked and paled farther.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said thinking how stupid the sentence sounded to his own ears

"Sir Godric told us everything, Harry." 

"Have no fear, we will not tell a soul, you have our word," Christlina said earnestly.

Harry nodded and looked deeply into both their eyes, trying to determine if he could trust them. Finally, deciding that he could, he smiled at them.

"I'll tell you about it later. Right now I'd best talk to Sir Godric," he said.

Harry bowed to the two of them and then returned to the castle, seeking Sir Godric. Christlina and Will watched him cross the drawbridge and enter the castle before they returned to the castle themselves. Neither one of them was aware of a shadow that hovered nearby, watching and waiting for the right time to act.

~

Dumbledore awoke with an odd feeling in his heart that something was terribly wrong. He had been having a very odd dream, which he couldn't remember. All he knew was that it was that Harry had been there and that there was a feeling of wrongness within him. Dumbledore looked around the darkened room but everything seemed to be in place and normal. Yet, there was tension in the air and a sense of the world hanging in balance. Something was about to happen, a choice was going to be made.

Dumbledore tried in vain to return to slumber but the feeling of tension and of wrongness would not abate. He rose from his bed and put on his dressing gown. Walking to his desk he glanced at Gryffindor's journal and picked it up hoping that Harry had had another warning. He had written nothing in several weeks but there was nothing. Dumbledore feared that someone of the Dark was blocking Harry's gift, on which he was depending, and probably on Voldemort's orders but he could see no purpose in that.

## "Not unless…No… Not even Voldmort would dare…" Dumbledore's face paled as he turned to a page several weeks later, which was written in a slanting female hand. "Please don't let this be…" 

A high, cold and evil laughter invaded his mind and he heard a cold voice hissing in his ear:

"It will happen, fool. Did I not tell you so in times past? The downfall of the Light will begin now and it will come through the one who was thought to have been my downfall. Watch as all you knew perishes in flame!"

Dumbledore felt cold hands force him to rise and soon he found himself looking into mirror in which Harry's image was reflected. He carried a sword that Dumbledore recognized in his hand, the sword of Godric Gryffindor. There was a second image overlaying the first and Dumbledore could see the blade was covered in blood. Harry's eyes were briefly full of an insane and twisted joy before he faded from Dumbledore's sight.

"The time has come for the Phoenix in balance to choose. Watch as he turns forever from you and your Light. He will, in a few hours time, hand the world over to me and mine forever and in so doing will take his own life. A fitting end for the Gryffindor line…betrayed by their last living heir."

"You are mad! Don't you realize what you are doing?" Dumbledore said through gritted teeth.

Voldemort laughed, his laughter echoing off the walls of Dumbledore's office, making it sound as if there were several Voldemort's there instead of just one.

"I am merely eliminating a line that has been the bane of Slytherin's since the dawn of time. I am fulfilling Slytherin's wish…to cleanse this school of the unworthy."

Voldemort laughed again and was so intent on tormenting Dumbledore that he failed to notice one of the portraits occupants leave their painting and go off in search of one of the other Professors.

Dumbledore stared at the image of Harry and waited, fear in his heart.

## "Please don't give in Harry. You must not surrender to evil…remember the sacrifice that was made…"


	17. If I Forget Thee...

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Seventeen: If I Forget Thee…

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Everything else belongs to Ms. Rowling. Thanks again for all the reviews. You have all been just wonderful. Hope you enjoy this part as much as the others. To answer a few questions… **Rede**: the dates are in the book actually, although they are not given numbers. The time of the Chamber of Secrets is 1992 and this can be determined by the date 1492 on Nick's cake at his 500th deathday party. Thus it would be 1995 when Harry begins his fifth year. I just chose the other date so that it was almost 1000 prior to Harry's time. **Jenn: **you will find out. **Von of Chaos: **there will be more on the Dagger of Sorrow/Sacrifice and the Staff of the Phoenix in later stories. **Pleiades: **Watch and wait. Enjoy! ~ HML~

_He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark._

# Albus Dumbledore

_Chapter 17_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

_ _

_His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice…_

# Lord Voldemort

_Chapter 33_

_Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_ _

There was fire all around him. It flickered and danced in a circle around the crib in which he lay.Then the fire disappeared, replaced by a flash of light and then the sound of an agonized scream. The light intensified and turned green and the agonized scream turned into a woman's terrified pleading.

_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!_

_ _

Pain shot across his scar and the room around him dissolved into a vast stone chamber, where a hissing voice spoke:

## See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapour…

_ _

The mist's glowing red eyes bore into his own and the room faded to become the Chamber of Secrets where Tom Riddle who would become the Dark Lord Voldemort stood gloating at him.

## I'm going to sit here and watch you die…

_ _

Riddle's face became the face of Wormtail.

## He would have killed me, Sirius

_ _

The run down room in the Shrieking Shake turned into the graveyard near the Riddle House where the words _Crucio _and _Avada Kedavra _rent the air around him. The graveyard melted into the dungeon cell where he had spent several months.

_You will join me. Voldemort's voice hissed in his ear._

_ _

_Never! He said faintly, the word echoing all around him._

Voldemort's snake-like face turned into Slytherin's who said nothing and merely stood glaring at Harry. For a fleeting moment, Harry saw himself holding a bloodstained sword in his hand, Darkness and evil glowing in his eyes before he fell to the ground and disappeared. Cold laughter echoed in his mind and for an instant he saw shadows surrounding a man with a white beard that seemed to glow in the faint light.

Harry jerked awake to find himself covered with sweat and with the sheets tangled around his body. He untangled the sheets, wiped the sweat that was running down his face from his forehead and got up. He walked over to a nearby table and picked up the goblet of cool water that was sitting there. He took a deep drink of the chilled water. The water in this time tasted different, with a grittier quality to it, but thus far it had not made him ill in any way. Harry took a long drink from the goblet again and stared out the window at the full moon that was just setting. The stars were twinkling merrily down at him and the grounds were covered in a heavy blanket of white. He looked over the grounds carefully, sensing there was something amiss but unable to determine what. 

Over the past several weeks his dreams had grown more and more disjointed, the images within those dreams seeming to be veiled in an impenetrable mist. He tried to make sense of the dream he'd just awakened from but could not even remember all of the images he'd seen in the dream. They had all moved to fast for him to catch more than a glimpse of any one image before it faded into the next one.

"It's warning me of something," he thought, desperately casting his mind about for what the dream could be warning him of. 

He now knew with some certainty that someone had either blocked his gift or that it had been hopelessly scrambled beyond his power to correct it. Pain seared across the Dark Sigil on his arm and a hiss of pain escaped his closed mouth. He made no move to touch it or to even roll up his sleeve to look at the mark, which now burned deep ebony. Somewhere Voldmort was calling his followers to him and Harry resisted the urge to answer the summons, which took almost all of his willpower to resist and always left him weak and shaky, his pale, strained face covered with a thin layer of sweat. He wasn't exactly sure when the need to answer the Dark Lord's call had begun but it was fast becoming more difficult for him to fight it and the incessantly hissing voice in his mind that was growing stronger with each day that passed. Harry concentrated his entire mind on the large snowflakes that were now spiraling down from a leaden sky and he thought about the fact that he would be returning home tomorrow. Finally, after several minutes, hissing voice faded into nothing and Harry was able to concentrate on the task before him. He had to think of a place that he knew so well that he could picture it clearly in his mind and he had yet to decide where that might be. Lady Helga had told him that it must be a very detailed image that would direct the spell to the desired time and location.

It has been nearly a month since Sir Godric had seen him in his office to tell him that the Tempus spell would be attempted over the Yule holiday.

"You are strong enough for us to at least attempt it," Sir Godric had said as he rose from his desk to pull the appropriate spell book from a shelf nearby.

The book in question turned out to be bound in black leather with silver lettering glittering on the spine and looked very well thumbed. This was not, however, what caught Harry's attention; Harry noticed that Sir Godric had a sword strapped around his waist, the hilt of which looked extremely familiar to Harry. It was covered in glittering rubies. Harry's eyes went wide and for a moment they slide out of focus. Harry felt his mind drift and a low, faint voice was saying in his ear…_Take the sword, Harry._ The image of himself holding a bloodstained sword flashed across his mind and suddenly he realized that the sword in front of him was the same as the one in his dream. He felt his mind drifting farther and farther away until a strong voice pulled him back to the Sir Godric's office and back to the present.

"Harry? Harry!" Sir Godric's voice sounded panicked.

Harry shook his head and the room slid back into focus. He was slumped in the chair he'd been sitting in with one hand outstretched toward the sword Gryffindor now held before him.

"You have seen my blade, Lightbearer, before have you?"

Harry nodded and then seeing Sir Godric's expectant look he decided to continue.

"I pulled it from the Sorting Hat in my second year. I needed some help and that is what the hat provided."

Harry decided not to go into detail about the basilisk nor the Chamber of Secrets. Sir Godric nodded and his eyes twinkled, reminding Harry of Dumbledore. Harry grinned back.

"I shall have to teach you sword play then. Skill in the way of the sword can be quite useful at need."

Harry spent the remaining weeks of the term learning the fine art of swordsmanship in between his usual classes. Christlina and Will had come so often to watch him spar that Sir Godric had decided to include them in the instruction as well. Only one thing marred those lessons and it was the same thing that was bothering Harry now; every time he saw Gryffindor's ruby encrusted sword his mind would start to drift, almost like it was floating, and a voice would tell Harry to take the sword. Harry stared down at the snow-covered grounds deep in thought.

"It's almost…it feels like an Imperius Curse," Harry shook his head in confusion. "It can't be though. I am able to block Imperius. They can't gain control over me that way."

Harry watched the sky beginning to lighten without realizing it was growing lighter, his thoughts on the sword and the strangely familiar voice.

~

Dumbledore watched Harry's image in the mirror as the later looked pensively out the window. Dumbledore could still feel the presence of Voldemort's spirit within the chamber, even though the Dark Lord was many miles away at Azkaban. Voldemort had no magical power in his spirit form, only the power to induce fear in another's heart. He hissed words into Dumbledore's ears calculated to plant doubt and foster despair in his heart. This was the move Voldemort always used before attacking and it was designed to break all resistance before Voldemort ever came near his intended objective.

Dumbledore continued to watch Harry and noticed a dark shadow lurking near him, poised to strike. Harry, it seemed, was unaware of its presence, for he made no move to confront it or even stop it from making its move.

"Take him now!" he heard Voldemort hiss.

The shadow paused for the briefest instant before it leapt at Harry, merging with the young wizard. In an instant, the glowing nimbus of light that surrounded Harry grew dark. His aura faded and was replaced with one of the deepest ebony. Dumbledore stood stunned, mouthing wordlessly. Harry appeared not to notice the change.

"He is mine!" Voldemort's voice hissed triumphantly.

"No…" Dumbledore felt his heart sink as he watched Harry preparing to leave the room for his final meeting with Sir Godric before they would be attempting to send him back.

"He is in balance no longer and he has chosen the Dark over the Light. Prepare to meet your doom!" Voldemort's spirit left, his cold laughter echoing within a chamber now grown dark.

Dumbledore reached out a hand to touch Harry's fading image, tears running down his face.

"Please don't let this be happening," he begged, as darkness seemed to descend around him.

Fifteen minutes later, Professor McGonagall and the portrait of Alanna McKinnon found Dumbledore unconscious before a mirror, muttering incomprehensible words and hardly breathing.

~

Ron Weasley stood at one of the windows in the Gryffindor Common Room, watching the sunrise, turning the sky brilliant shades of purple and pink. There seemed to be no breeze moving through the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the sky was, for once, clear.

"Perfect conditions for the Quidditch Final," he thought.

Gryffindor was in the final for the Quidditch Cup and once again found themselves playing Slytherin as they had two years past. Ron grimaced, the thought having left a funny taste in the back of his throat. By a strange turn of events in the last match of the season Slytherin had been catapulted into the Final. Nearly everyone suspected cheating in sudden illness that stuck the entire Hufflepuff team, which forced them to forfeit the last match of the season. However, no one could prove that Slytherin's team had anything to do with it as the Hufflepuffs had eaten the same food as everyone at their table had the day of the match at breakfast.

As a precaution, the Weasley twins, who both captained the Gryffindor team, had told them not to eat anything at dinner the night before nor at breakfast and had gone down to the kitchens themselves, bringing back the food they has asked Dobby to make for them, which made up for the order not to eat. His mind still on the coming match, Ron turned from the window to have a look around the Common Room. The Gryffindor team huddled quietly in a corner, receiving their last minute instructions from the twin captains. Ron noticed the looks of determination on each face and somehow he knew they would win. 

_"They are doing this for Harry,"_ he thought as his eyes misted over.

Neville looked pale but resolute and his eyes darted around as if seeking the Snitch already. Ron caught his eye and gave him a small smile, which Neville returned before turning back to Fred and George, who were explaining some strategy to the team.

_"If only Harry were here,"_ Ron thought as he glanced around the room for some sign of Hermione.

Harry was there, of course, in spirit if in no other way. He had been at every match since the one he'd disappeared at and he had inspired the team to soar to new heights. Ron looked back at the team, who were now sitting for a moment in contemplative silence. Neville gripped the handle of Harry's Firebolt in his left hand. He'd ridden the broom in every match and the whole team wore an extra patch on their robes in memory of their vanished comrade: a Gryffindor Lion made up of golden threads whose color was muted by a dark stain. The team's patches were all magical duplicates of the original bit of bloodstained cloth that Hedwig had brought back some months before. Neville had the original and Ron noticed that he was wearing the original on his robes this day and not the copy that had been a part of his uniform up until that time. He was looking at it now, his hand hovering just inches from the patch. Then he turned a bright-eyed stare at Ron and mouthed the words:_ we will win for Harry._ Ron nodded at Neville, who gave him a weak grin in return.

"Let's go," George said quietly to the team and, as one, they began to file out of the Common Room amid scattered applause from the few people who had not already gone down to breakfast. 

Hermione arrived a few moments later and she and Ron went down to breakfast. When they arrived a few minutes later, the Great Hall was full of a deafening roar as cheers and hisses echoed around the vast chamber at the Gryffindor team's entrance. Ron and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table and after a few moments the room grew quieter. This lasted until the appearance of the Slytherin team. The noise made by the rest of the students in the hall at their arrive was nearly overwhelming. A wave of boos and insults broke over the Slytherins from nearly everyone in the Hall as the Slytherins sat down haughtily in their seats and glared at the Gryffindors as if they were somehow beneath their lofty station. The Gryffindor team stared stonily back but remained silent. 

The tension between the two houses had now grown to such a pitch that whenever anyone from the two houses met, a fight invariably erupted between them. Slytherins and Gryffindors had now served more detentions then the Weasley twins ever had for fighting, although they never served them together. Even Snape, who had recovered from his poison-fever, had become angry about the way his house's students were acting. He'd already given some Slytherins detention and had taken several hundred House Points from his own house, which the rest of the professors had found highly amusing. Even now in the Great Hall the tension between the two houses was palpable, so much so that you would have thought you were walking through an icy, deep and invisible fog. The Gryffindors were given the Slytherins across the room icy stares that the Slytherins returned in equal measure, much to the chagrin of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs whose tables were between them. They had begun to feel as if they were in the middle of crossfire at mealtimes. 

Ron watched the Slytherins from under his eyelashes, glaring at Malfoy who was busy talking to Pansy Parkinson. Ron was still angry with Malfoy for saying that Harry would not ever return and for calling Hermione a mudblood again. Hermione put a hand on Ron's shoulder as she saw his face grow hard and his body tense.

"Ignore him, Ron. He's not worth the trouble."

"Hermione, how can you sit here and calmly take it?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Who says I'm taking this calmly…ever wonder why I'm top of the class even over that git Malfoy?"

Ron grinned at her and she smiled back. He noticed how the smile seemed to light up her eyes and that it caused her face to glow. He felt his face go red for a moment at the turn his thoughts were taking. She eyes flicked to the Slytherin table again and the back to Ron, whose face was as red as his hair. She felt her heart lift for a moment as she looked into his eyes.

"Be…besides its time to go anyway. Look the teams are leaving," she continued and then looked at his eyes again.

Ron nodded and got the urge to hold out his arm to Hermione, which he did. She smiled up at him and took it laughing. The left the Great Hall and made their way to the Quidditch Pitch. Instead of leading her inside the stadium, however, he led her to a stand of trees nearby.

"Ron…" 

He put a finger to her lips and silenced her. 

"Hermione….there is something I need to tell you…that I've wanted to tell you for a long time…" Ron swallowed and blinked his eyes. "I…I…think I love you…that I'm in love with you."

There he had said it, after wrestling with it for the past several months is was out in the open at last. Hermione looked stunned, as if this was the last thing she expected to hear from Ron. She was silent so long that Ron felt his heart fall. Then she smiled up at him and reached up to kiss him. It lasted maybe a minute but it left both of them breathless. 

"I love you too, Ron," she said, her eyes twinkling and her face slightly pink.

They could here the game beginning and the voice of Lee Jordan announcing the names of the Gryffindor players.

"He stumbled over Neville's name again," Hermione commented quietly.

"That's because he's used to saying Harry's. We should go."Ron led Hermione back toward the entrance of the stadium.

"Do you think we will ever see Harry again?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I'm positive we will…maybe even today." Ron told her even though he really wasn't sure when or if they would.

They entered the stadium, thinking of Harry lost somewhere in the past.

~

Walking through the snowy forest to the place were he had first appeared in this time was hard work, especially when one felt slightly dizzy and a bit out of sorts. There was no denying that Harry though he was coming down with something. He had felt odd ever since this morning but he hadn't told anyone. His desire to return home overrode everything else, even common sense and the vague sense of unease that Harry felt. Harry felt the muscles in his legs straining and there was a stitch in his side by the time they had reached the clearing full of ancient trees, oak and maple, and a very large bush of holly. All four founders studied the area and stood at the four cardinal points to begin the Portalus Tempus Spell. Harry, Christlina, Will and the body of Pettigrew were several feet away watching with rapt attention. The founders raised their hands in unison and began to chant the spell in a language that Harry didn't understand. They pointed their wands at the center of the circle and sparks danced, then there was a flash of light from all four wands as they connected, the wand light meeting in the center of the clearing.

"Now is the time for your part, Harry," Lady Rowena said, looking at him. "All you need do is think of a place in your own time, any place will do, and concentrated on it whilst we finish the incantation. 

Harry nodded to show that he understood and searched his mind for some place in his own time that he knew very well. After several minutes in thought, he decided the Quidditch Pitch was as good a place as any. He saw in his mind's eye the golden goal posts, the green expanse of grass, the row upon row of seats and the flags that waved in the breeze high above the field. Keeping this image firmly fixed in his mind, he called to the others.

"Okay…I've got the image in my head!"

Rowena nodded at him and began the spell.

"Guardian of all time and holder of the hourglass, which allows the years to pass, please grant to this one lost far from his own time the true desire of his heart…"

"To return him to his own time and place of birth so that time's balance might be restored. So that he might fulfill destiny's plan for his world…" intoned Slytherin's deep and gravelly voice, and Harry noticed that his eyes were glowing faintly as they stared back at him.

_"I wonder what he's up to?"_ Harry though as another wave of dizziness broke over him.

"Send him back to his home and friends so that he might gain for the Light a great victory and so that he might take what he has learned here back with him…" Lady Helga's eyes looked at Harry and she smiled briefly at him.

"From future to the past and from past to the future again, take the image in his mind, show us the place he wishes to go. Let him travel there now and so return to the place were the fires of war yet burn…" Gryffindor's face was set and the lines that connected the wands began to glow white-hot.

"Send this one who is Light's servant be returned so that in all the Light might burn," the four intoned together and the lines began to glow still brighter.

There was a blinding flash of light and, when Harry could see again, he saw a glowing circle of light shape vaguely like a doorway and framed by this doorway, he could see the Quidditch Pitch with a match in progress. He could see players zooming in and out of the circle and it appeared to be Gryffindor and Slytherin that were playing. Very faintly Harry could hear the voice of Lee Jordan and the roar of the crowd, although he heard no words. Christlina and Will looked at the faint picture in amazement.

"That is where I come from," Harry told them quietly.

"This is what Quidditch will be then?" Will watched the glowing circle with rapt attention. 

Harry said nothing but let the others watch for several minutes in silence. The Hogwarts founders all came up to Harry and gave him gifts. Gryffindor gave him a copy of what were in his own time ancient spells. The book was bound in red leather and had gold lettering on it.

"Use it well and remember all you have learned here."

"I promise to," Harry said solemnly, bowing at Sir Godric and clasping his hand.

Lady Helga gave him a small penknife to make sure his quills were always sharp and Lady Rowena gave him a handkerchief to remember her by. Slytherin gave no gift and indeed said nothing during the exchange. Harry didn't mind he wasn't sure that he would have accepted anything from Slytherin anyway. Harry did, however, thank Slytherin for saving his life.

"Be careful, young phoenix…you now hold the fate of two worlds in your hands," he said softly and Harry looked at him, puzzled, before walking over to where Christlina and Will stood apart from the teachers.

"I want to thank you for being there to help me," 

"Tis all right. We enjoyed helping, " said Christlina, whose eyes seemed to be red as if she had been crying. 

Will slapped Harry on the back and Harry grinned.

"Tis I who shall be thanking you, my friend of another time for without your help I never would have learned the Secundus Shield."

"We have gifts for you also," said Christlina holding out a slender and long package to him.

Harry opened it and found an odd long wand like object. It was made of a wood that he had never seen before and runes were etched into the surface of the wood. It tingled faintly when he touched it.

"This has been in the family for generations…we are not sure what it is exactly only that it is magical and powerful. I would like you to have it, you have more need of it then I."

Harry tried to give it back to her but she pushed it back toward him.

"It is a gift from the McKinnon clan to the Potter clan. Keep it safe…in memory of those who have already been lost to your world." Christlina's eyes were slightly out of focus as she said this but then they cleared.

Harry felt his heart contract. The McKinnon family had been one of the ones to fall in the same time period as his own parents had. Had Christlina seen into the future? He wanted to look into her eyes but just then Will shoved a small package into his hand.

"Tis not much…" Will said rather sheepishly.

Harry found a small copper mirror within the folds of paper. 

"You look into the mirror and tell it what you want to see in it. Whatever you want to see will appear in the mirror. You can keep an eyes on us this way." 

Harry grinned at Will and he bowed, while Christlina burst out laughing. The two boys began to laugh too and soon the clearing was full of there ringing laughter. It took them several moments to calm themselves because as soon as they began to stop laughing one of them would look at another and the laughter would begin again. Finally, they were able to stop and stood their clasping hands for a moment.

"It is time, Harry. If you don't go now you will not be able to return at all," Sir Godric's voice called. 

"Coming…" Harry called to him. "I have to go…Take care of yourselves. You are the best friends I could have hoped for while I remained here."

"Godspeed to you, Harry Potter. May the God who gave you life protect that life from harm," Will said solemnly.

"We swear never to forget thee," Christlina said. 

"And I swear not to forget thee." Harry grinned at them and they smiled back.

They clasped hands again and then Harry shouldered his bag, and strode off toward the circle of light with Pettigrew's body following after. 

He was five feet from the glowing circle when the feeling that something was wrong began to grow stronger and the hissing voice began to echo within his head once more. Three feet from the portal his steps began to falter and he became overcome with dizziness. He could feel his thoughts drifting and he began to feel as if something were wiping away his thoughts. Darkness seemed to cloud his vision and he could hear the voice again, only louder and more insistent.

_"Take the sword and with it slay mine enemies."_

_ _

Harry tried to ignore the voice but he found himself walking away from the portal and toward Gryffindor. He struggled to reclaim his body but whatever force held his mind bound was powerful. He continued to walk toward Gryffindor and he found himself grabbing Gryffindor's sword from its scabbard. He held it firmly in his left hand and glared around at them all, his bright eyes turned cold and dead.

"No, Harry!" Will shouted as he watched Harry swing the sword at Gryffindor's unprotected body.

"Will…stop!" Christlina shouted as he leapt in between Harry and Sir Godric. 

She ran forward and saw the blow fall. It hit Will instead of Gryffindor, slicing across his chest. He fell in a heap on the ground blood darkening his robes. Gryffindor eyed Harry, who held the now bloody sword in his hand as he stepped over Will's slumped form. 

"Harry fight the spell…don't do this, " Christlina called out to him, tears running down her face as she reached out to him. 

He slapped her to the ground and swung again at Sir Godric, who moved out of the way but as he did so he tripped over a tree root and fell, his ankle twisting under him. Harry stalked toward him and stood over him gloating, his eyes full of darkness and evil. Gryffindor could now do nothing to stop him. He looked into Harry's green eyes and tried to find some sign of the Harry he had come to know but there was nothing the but evil. He watched as the blade of the sword was swung upward and caught the light. He looked into Harry's eyes once more but saw only cruelty in the gaze that had once held love for all things living. Gryffindor knew there was nothing he could do to stop the blade and no way he could move out of the way in time. He was trapped.


	18. Phoenix Fire

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Eighteen: Phoenix Fire

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I would like to thank Coqui for beta reading this for me. Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers too. Sorry this chapter took so long. Coursework kept me from it, specifically tests. Enjoy. There will be a brief note at the end of this chapter. ~HML~

_…to deliver the last Potter to them…_

# Sirius Black

_Chapter 19_

_Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_

_ _

_Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that._

# Ernie MacMillan

_Chapter 11_

_Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

_ _

_ _

The Quidditch final had already begun by the time Ron and Hermione entered the stadium. They had just begun to look around for seats among the sea of scarlet and gold when they heard a faint sound, like a click, behind them. They both turned around but after close examination, found nothing unusual. They had turned back to the match when a glowing, bright light caught their attention. The light seemed to fill the entrance in front of them and they fell back, momentarily startled by its appearance. They watched the swirling, iridescent cloud that had now filled the entire entrance. Within the cloud faint shapes were taking form and Hermione and Ron were almost sure that they had caught a glimpse of Harry within the swirling mist.

They stepped a few feet away from the void before them and noticed that no one, apart from themselves, seemed to have noticed the strange glowing portal that now filled the gate before them. They turned back toward the portal, which had now become opaque, and saw Harry and several others, though it appeared that none of the figures on the portal's other side could see them. Ron and Hermione saw Harry taking leave of the small group that had gathered around to see him off. He appeared to be well and he walked calmly toward the portal and his own time. It quickly became apparent, however, that something was amiss, for not three feet from the portal Harry's eyes became possessed of a dark and fell look and he moved swiftly in the opposite direction to attack a wizard in red, who they both recognized as Godric Gryffindor. 

Ron and Hermione watched the scene that played out before them with mounting horror and fear, unable to tear their eyes away from it and unable to move or make a sound. They stood transfixed, watching as Harry advanced on the wizard before him. Their hearts quailed as they saw Harry cut down the young wizard who had rushed to Gryffindor's aid.

"No…" Hermione whispered over and over as she watched Harry advance once more toward Gryffindor.

"It can't be…Harry would never…could never…" Ron's voice reflected his shock.

They saw Gryffindor fall back, his ankle twisting under him and Harry raising the sword, which glinted in the sun's light. The sword was held suspended in midair as if Harry was unsure of his next move.

"Don't do it, Harry! If Gryffindor dies then you will too!" Hermione shouted as she ran toward the portal determined to stop Harry at all cost.

At her shout, a part of the nearby crowd noticed something odd was going on near the entrance of the pitch. Dumbledore came hurrying down from his seat followed by Professors McGonagall, Snape and Lupin. Ron went after Hermione, who was standing just inches from the portal frozen to the spot and her eyes wide in terror. Dumbledore and the others stopped a few feet from the portal, surprised by what they saw. Harry stood poised over the fallen figure of Godric Gryffindor with a sword upraised and aimed for Gryffindor's unprotected heart.

"Do not go in there, Miss Granger. The spell that created the portal is going unstable," Dumbledore said, watching the portal wavering in and out.

"But Harry…" Hermione said, her eyes full of anguish and longing.

"He must now choose for himself… we are not allowed to help him, not now," Dumbledore eyed the now trembling sword that glinted in the failing light of the sun, hoping that Harry would be able to defend himself against whatever magic held him bound.

They stood before the portal waiting for something to happen, hoping against all hope that Harry could still save himself.

~

Harry struggled with the dark shadow that had taken control of his actions. He could not allow the creature within to kill Sir Godric, for if the creature was successful in its attempt then he, Harry, would never be born and the world he knew would be no more. He grappled with the creature mind to mind, trying to throw it's mental spell off long enough to gain control of his actions once more. Soon the creature that had somehow become a part of him released its hold on a small portion of Harry's mind. The wall that has stood between his spirit and the shadow demon was breached. His spirit flew through the gap and took hold of the demon, trying to force it to leave his body. For a brief instant, it looked like he would be successful in driving the demon out. He'd gained control of his actions once more but the demon attacked his spirit again, trying to force it back into the mental prison it had created. Harry felt his control ebbing away as the shadow demon struck him a powerful blow, leaving three parallel and deep gashes in his side. Harry hissed as burning pain and a sudden, piercing cold began to permeate his body. He stumbled back in shock and nearly fell to his knees.

Still he disparately held onto control of the arm and hand, which held the sword of Gryffindor. The demon tried to swing the sword at Sir Godric's unprotected body as its master was ordering it to but Harry resisted the whispered command. The sword's tip wavered and as it did so, Sir Godric attempted to move out of its path only, to discover that he and the others were caught in some spell that prevented them from moving. He recognized the feeling of the magic…

"You!" he glared at Slytherin, who sneered back.

"Yes, I am the one who arranged all this. You are far to trusting and naïve, Godric, but now your time is done. This school will at last be cleansed of the filth you have allowed to taint its sacred halls," Lord Salazar turned to look at Harry, an evil grin on his face and added silkily, "Finish him now, Potter."

Harry's arm moved a quarter inch and sword came closer to Godric's body but then it stopped as control returned to Harry again. Harry could feel himself growing weaker and weaker, the hand holding the sword was slowly slipping from his control. He knew he hadn't the strength to hold out much longer and that if he didn't do something soon all hope would be lost. 

"Do as I have commanded!" came the order from Lord Slytherin.

The demon within attacked him with renew intensity and at the same time Harry felt something pierce his body. He staggered from the two nearly simultaneous blows and felt his control slipping another few notches. If he didn't do something and soon, he would kill his ancestor and his whole family. The world he knew would be plunged into Darkness forevermore.

_"But what can I do? What could possibly help me now?"_

_ _

His knees began to buckle and control over his body wavered again, this time nearly slipping from his grasp completely. Disparately, he tried to think of something, anything that might help him drive out the demon, restoring his body once more to himself. Then, like a faint glimmer of light, he remembered something Sir Godric had told him several weeks ago. He had been asking about what other powers the sword held and Sir Godric had told him that it had the power to drive out demons from a body.

_"This is a very dangerous spell," _he'd said then. _"Because the person possessed of a demon must be severely wounded by the sword for it to work and not many people survive the wound received. Many feel the risk is not worth the price."_

_ _

Harry felt the sword shudder in his grasp, its hilt suddenly cold and slippery with sweat. He could see the demon waiting to spring at him for the final time and knew what he must do. The world around him was beginning to dim and he knew he could not allow Sir Godric to be killed. For the sake of this world, for the sake of his own and for the sake of his parent's sacrifice he had to be the one who took the blow that was meant to kill Gryffindor. The thought frightened him beyond anything that he had ever experienced and his body trembled in reaction to his fear but he knew there was no other way to stop Slytherin's shadow demon. Briefly he wondered if the same thoughts had run through his own parents' minds and if they too had seen their brief lives flash in front of them.

The shadow demon, sensing what Harry was about to do, sprung upon Harry's back its venomous claws outstretched. It wrested control away from Harry but not before he had reversed the blade so that it was facing his own body. The demon's howl of triumph as it plunged the blade into its victim turned into a scream of terror as it realized too late what Harry had done. The scream filled the clearing with an unearthly sound and Harry saw the demon explode into shards of darkness. He came back to himself and the sword fell from his now nerveless hand. Harry fell to his knees as the clearing around him began to dim and as his blood stained the snow below bright scarlet.

"Forgive…me…" Harry whispered in a voice full of pain as Sir Godric rose before him.

The world was quickly dimming around Harry, but before all fell into darkness, he thought he saw Sir Godric mouth the words _I forgive thee._ Harry smiled and then he was beyond all fear or caring.

~

"No…" Professor McGonagall whispered hoarsely as Snape slowly moved forward. Ron and Hermione stood to shocked by what they had just seen to move or even speak. So absorbed were they by the images in the portal that they failed to notice the arrival of Cornelius Fudge nor did they note the look of horror mixed with triumph on his face. Fudge stood behind them but had a clear view of what was going on both sides of the portal. He smiled an evil smile and his heart leapt for joy for it now appeared that he had not failed his master after all. Dumbledore and Potter had fallen into his master's trap just as Voldemort had said they would. All he had to do was arrest them both and see to it that they were sent to Azkaban as traitors to the cause of Light. Voldemort would then have his worst two enemies captured and the resistance would dissolve with lack of strong leadership.

"Then the world will be ours for the taking," Fudge thought as he watched the group beyond the portal. 

As they watched, a bird with vivid red and gold plumage flew into the stadium, singing and winged his way toward the portal. He heard the call of his long time friend who was in mortal danger. Fawkes flew unerringly toward the portal and then through it to land beside Harry whose eyelids fluttered open weakly the moment he had arrived. 

"Fawkes…" he whispered but not in any language the others had ever heard. "Not me…save him…must not die…wrong time."

His gaze rested on the slumped form of Will who was breathing shallowly. Fawkes looked questioningly at Harry then, at Harry's weak nod, he approached Will and began to heal the deep gash in his chest. Harry smiled weakly at Fawkes and then slumped forward, clutching the wound in his chest. Within a few moments he was unconscious from the loss of so much blood. Sir Godric tried to rouse him but to no avail. Turning away from the two unconscious students, he turned to Lord Slytherin, his eyes full of fury and his usually warm voice as cold as a winter's night.

"Leave this place and _never_ return on pain of instant death. You are hereby banished from this castle and holding forevermore. Witnessed this day in the year of our Lord 1095. Sealed by magic in view of these witnesses."

"I _will_ return here. There is nothing you can do to stop me and you cannot banish me forever, Gryffindor. I now place a curse upon your house. All the heirs of your blood shall die young until none are left to stand against me whilst mine own house shall grow stronger as the years pass. Never will Slytherins and Gryffindors meet in friendship. One day I will return and on that day you will suffer my wrath!" Lord Salazar glared around at them all and then Disapparated from the clearing.

Sir Godric stared at the spot where Slytherin had stood a moment before and felt a sudden foreboding in his heart. A noise at his feet distracted him, causing him to look down. Christlina was helping Will slowly to his feet.

"I live?" Will looked dazed, and then he spotted Harry's slumped form on the ground, blood turning the snow beneath him crimson. "He tried to kill you, sir. We must… "

"He was possessed of an evil shadow demon, young Will. He did nothing here that was of his own free will save for the healing of yourself. He fought off the demon but at great cost to himself and called the phoenix to his side, telling it to heal you instead of himself."

"He saved my life…" Will glanced down at Harry's nearly lifeless body, disbelief written clearly on his face

"He saved us all. Slytherin, in his mad lust for power, would have killed us and destroyed two worlds, " Sir Godric looked at the portal and saw it was beginning to waver. "Come… we must still get these two home before the portal closes. There is no time to heal him here and his only chance lays with them."

Will, Christlina and the others noticed the people on the other side of the portal for the first time. They all looked pale and shocked by what they had just seen. There seemed to be a small gathering on the other side of the gate, all but one looked anxiously at them. Will looked at Christlina and she nodded.

"We will take him through the portal, sir. He has saved my life and I must now return the favor."

Sir Godric looked down at them and smiled. 

"We shall go as well," the soft voice of Lady Helga said as Sir Godric looked in surprise from one woman to the other.

"We may be able to help the others," said Lady Rowena, studying the gateway. "A new gate will have to be built for those that accompany Harry through so we must needs all be there."

Sir Godric smiled at them. 

"So be it. We shall all accompany young Master Potter back to his own time." Sir Godric knelt down and lifted Harry's limp body from the bloodstained ground. "Come."

The group slowly made their way toward the portal with the body of Pettigrew floating behind. They stood for a moment before the portal, looking at the great crowd of people on its other side. They stepped through it coming out instantly on the other side as if they had simply walked through a doorway. The instant they crossed the threshold of the portal and stepped into the future, the portal vanished in a flash of light leaving behind only a small glyph of two intertwined snakes. No one noticed this however. They were all too intent on Harry and his wounds. Two stretchers were conjured and Harry and Peter were placed upon them. They were taken to the Hospital Wing. Harry, who was still unconscious, was given a potion to ensure he would remain asleep while Madame Pomfrey and Lady Helga tended to his wounds, which were life threatening. When at last they emerged from the Hospital Wing several hours later they were both exhausted but believed that Harry would make a full recovery, though it would be several months before he would be able to leave the Hospital Wing.

"Headmaster, he'll need complete bed rest for awhile. I know it is an unusual request and one that is not often made but I believe he should be allowed to stay here most of the summer. Those Muggles he lives with will never allow him the proper rest or food. It would be for his own safety, Headmaster, and would guarantee a full recovery from the injuries he has suffered these many months."

Dumbledore's face grew thoughtful. Dare he risk it? Always before Harry had been sent to spend the summer holidays with his only living relatives, the Dursleys. He had to do this in order to renew the massive protection spells that had been placed around him and which were anchored there. He looked down at Harry's pale face, still deep in thought. He knew that the Dursley's could never be made to understand what Harry had been through this year and he also knew that they would never allow Harry to relax once he was back with them. After several minutes of thought he decided that the risk was worth it. Hogwarts castle was protected and with all the professors still there over the summer holidays, Harry should be safe enough. He could stay in the room off the Great Hall, which was the most heavily protected room in all of Hogwarts.

"I will make the arrangements for him to stay here for the summer until he is strong enough. Then, if he wishes, he can go to the Weasley's for the rest of the holiday," he added, smiling at Ron who grinned back.

Madame Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a look that plainly said that A visit to the Weasley's was not something that she thought would do Harry any good but she returned to the Hospital Wing to watch Harry, taking Ron and Hermione with her.Dumbledore turned to the three founders and their companions noticing all of them were looking around the castle with curious expressions on their faces. 

"You are welcome to stay here for a bit as my guests." 

"Thank you, sir," Will said, as he eyed the aged Headmaster deciding that Dumbledore reminded him of his favorite uncle, Samuel.

"We want to stay whilst Harry recovers," said Lady Rowena. "He will want to know that we are all well, I think."

"That he would. He always worries for others before himself." Dumbledore said quietly, looking at Will. "Come to my office and we will see to your rooms. I'm sure we can find enough room for you all."

He rose from his chair in the outer room and the others followed him.

~

Harry was dreaming again. He was back at Godric's Hollow with his parents. They were laughing high above him, their voices carefree and easy. The sky above him was of the deepest blue and white clouds moved overhead forming strange shapes, which Harry laughed at. He was lying on his back in the tall grass with flowers bobbing above him. He watched a butterfly land on a nearby flower and giggled, reaching out his hand for it, but it fluttered away. He sat up and looked around him. He saw his parents sitting on a blanket. The sun was shining on his mother's hair turning it to burnished bronze. He began to stumble toward her, laughing and calling out something that sounded like, _mum._ He stumbled toward his parents and as he did so he saw a dark shadow hovering over them. He cried out a warning to them but they vanished from his sight. The field around him changed from vivid green to dead black and the sun's light was shuttered. The air around him turned chill and, looking up, he saw Voldemort's glowing red eyes hovering above the place where is parents had been a moment before. His glowing eyes turned into a huge Dark Mark that was hovering above the house that had once been Harry's home. He ran to the house suddenly aware he was in his own body again. 

He raced through the front door, which stood open, swinging loosely on one hinge. He stopped dead in the center of the hall, suddenly unsure whether he wanted to go forward. Slowly he walked down the large entrance hall and into the living room. It was a wreck. Everything in the room had been thrown against the walls by the force of magic that had been released in the room and everything on the walls burnt beyond recognition. James, his father, lay in crumpled heap against the wall, his wand several feet from him and still faintly glowing. Harry's heart contracted at the look of resignation on his father's face. Harry walked through the room and into another hall where another door stood blasted open be magic. Harry stopped at the entrance of this room, knowing what he would find when he looked into it. He started to turn away, unwilling for some reason to go on, when a faint call made him turn around.

"Mum?" he called out, sorrow etching his voice.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and then with a sigh entered the dark and shadowy room. His mother lay sprawled at the foot of the crib, which had once held him, her vivid red hair pooling around her. There was a strand of it lying across her pale face and her eyes were staring mutely up at him. He knelt down beside her, tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He knew that the cry could not have come from her. He looked around, his tears making the room around him blur, and finally he saw who had made the cry. A few inches from were he knelt and partially shielded by his mother's body, he saw himself and the family cat. The cat had snuggled down next to the slumbering infant and it was the cat that had cried. It's bright eyes looked up at Harry and it mewled again. Harry reached out a hand and stroked its fur and it began to purr. Baby Harry snuggled close to it and sighed in his magical slumber. The spell, which had shielded him, glowed faintly around him and Harry could see that the faint glow had been tied to an even stronger spell set by his parents. A new spell that they had been developing for the protection of all but they had only ever used it this one time and in order to protect Harry's own life. Harry's eyes widened as he read the traces of the spell.

Suddenly the room around him began to fade and he thought he heard someone enter the room. 

"Remember what you have seen here. Remember the sacrifice that was given," he heard a faint voice say.

"I will remember," he thought as the room in his dream faded and he began to hear familiar voices around him. 

He knew that he was home again and alive. Voldemort and Slytherin had failed to destroy him and this time there was a chance to stop Voldemort's full rise forever. Harry swore by his parents' love that he would stand between the Darkness and the Light. He swore to defend the Light with his last breath. Voldemort may have left his mark upon his body but his soul was still his own. 

Fin

Author's Note: This is the final chapter of the _Dark Sigil_ saga. I am currently at work on the sequel of this story, which will be called _Harry Potter and the Staff of the Phoenix. _The plot of the story is secret but it will involve the merpeople, giants, Sirius' freedom and a quest to a stronghold of the Dark Lord as Harry searches for the second weapon of the Light.I hope you will enjoy it as much as you did _Dark Sigil_. I will be taking a brief break before posting the sequel so look for it in about two weeks ~HML~


End file.
